Lord Of Beasts
by Moon Fox
Summary: Book 5- A new ancient threat arises as a smuggler and a sorcerer join together... Can changing times in Camelot handle the darkness that is coming? (Chapter 27: Shadows and Princes )
1. Lord of Beasts pro-Chap 1

_**Welcome to book 5 - my equivalent of season 7 of Merlin. This series starts with Two Sides of the Coin (unbeta'ed) - which can be found on my profile page.**_

_**If you need some incentive to begin reading please check out the fanvid trailer beautifully made by Aylass84 at youtube dot com /watch?v=EMzLKC40btE as thanks to her, I have named an upcoming character in her honor.**_

_**Please enjoy and leave a review! This series is also being posted on AO3 and HoC cleaned up from the notes and clutter and having a bit more editing done. Both sites it the stories are found under the pen name Moonfox.**_

_**Thank you to all those continuing to follow and inspire me for this series! *air kisses* *hug* *rescued puppies***_

_**Also if anyone is interested in doing a full edit for me please let me know and I would forever be in your debt!**_

**Prologue:**

The smuggler sighed as he looked over his caravan. He used to take such joy in his work, but nowadays nothing was quite the same, and it hadn't been for years. Not since the love of his life, a former queen he had stolen away from her husband had died for another king they barely knew. He never blamed King Arthur, although it would have made things simpler if he had, but he and Isolde had gone into Camelot willingly on that fateful day. Arthur offered Tristan a place to stay afterwards and even a knighthood for his bravery and sacrifice. The old smuggler refused however and went on his way.

He had obligations to attend to and clients to repay for his missing goods. The material objects meant little without his fair Isolde and aside from that he still had a living to make and a daughter - hidden away from the world, to take care of. Aylass had just turned eighteen the past spring and was just as beautiful as her mother had been. Tristan shoved down his emotions. If he didn't get this load of cargo through soon there might not be enough coin to see him and his girl through the winter.

Once or twice Tristan considered going back to his family and asking for forgiveness. He was a prince after all, not that anybody cared after he ran off with his uncle's bride. Even before his foray into the lifestyle of a smuggler as a way to make living-Tristan was already a wanted man.

Over two decades ago he had been royalty and a rather accomplished harpist. He was sent to Ireland to collect his uncle's bride-to-be, not realizing on the journey back how madly in love he and the princess Isolde would fall. They returned home and Isolde was married to King Mark, but on her wedding night she refused to lay with him and in the dark she convinced her maid, a pleasant but homely girl named Brangwain to take her place, and the lovers ran away.

Tristan took his love first to his childhood home. He had been fostered by Duke Hoel of Cornwall and though he knew Hoel was no longer living, Tristan hoped his foster brother Gorlois would take him in. He arrived just as Gorlois was preparing to leave for battle and they spoke briefly.

"Please, you are like a brother to me, grant us sanctuary, I beg you!" Tristan had pleaded. He was so distracted by his own love that he failed to notice the despair that clung to his foster brother.

"These are dark times for all of us, Tristan. I have enough trouble dealing with my own liege, King Uther, to invite the wrath of King Mark and your family as well."

"Where is your wife, Lady Vivienne? Perhaps she can talk some sense into you brother," the blond prince said with snark. He was unprepared for the anger that flowed from Gorlois.

The blow landed solidly on his face and Tristan could sense straight away through the dancing stars before his eyes that his nose was broken. He heard Isolde cry out in shock as she raced to him from where she had been sitting and playing with a young dark-haired girl. "Get out," The words were frigid and the intention was clear.

The two men never spoke again as Isolde gathered her love in her arms and they fled the castle of Tintagel. It was only years later through rumors and bard stories that he began to understand the source of his brother's pain. And only recent years he felt the pain himself of losing his love and trying to raise a daughter.

"Tristan! My old friend!" A voice called out and broke him from his daydreams. The blond smuggler turned around to see who was speaking. He immediately wished he hadn't and groaned loudly with a roll of his eyes.

"Go away Alvarr," He stated grumpily.

"Oh come now, is that anyway to treat the man who brings you the opportunity of a lifetime?"

Tristan graced the sorcerer with a half-bored expression before breaking into a grin and embracing the other outlaw. Their dealings throughout the years were few, but always profitable so long as Alvarr kept his hands and eyes off of Isolde. For him to say the 'opportunity of a lifetime' certainly was enough temptation for Tristan to at least offer the man some supper and listen to his proposal.

**Chapter One**

The barely perceptible sound of the blunted edge on the hardened steel slicing through the air was music to his ears. The feel of the hilt across the palm of his hand and the brush of the pommel against the edges as he allowed the sword to swing freely in his grip while his fingers shifted to keep perfect control, was marvelous. The weight of the mail on his shoulders, the firm and supple padding underneath, down to very leather that had been worked, broken and molded to the contours of the arches of his feet - it all felt wondrous.

He tuned out the murmurs of the people nearby as they watched. A few more lazy swings of the castle forged practice blade and he fell easily into his stance. Blue-gray eyes lifted to meet brown ones and with a single nod they came together in a dance of muscle, sinew, and metal.

His opponent was cocky and underestimated him, thinking the long sleep may have dulled his senses, or that the injury to his leg might give the other an advantage. Gwaine couldn't be more wrong. The curse had effectively halted everything about Leon from the day of the battle, so to the blond knight and his body, it only seemed like a couple of weeks that he had been out of commission. Merlin was right about Alice's healing skills and after only a single visit nothing remained of the injury inflicted by Morgause but a faded scar. The fact he forgot to tell the rogue prince about the care he received must have purposely slipped his mind.

Leon's face gave nothing away. Up until the moment when their swords first met, he kept up the pretense of the limp. After the initial impact, he dropped the bluff and allowed his instincts to take over.

Gwaine was trying to show off, to go easy on him. A part of Leon could appreciate that as this was only training. The teacher in him allowed it for a bit and even played into it. He had been gone for a year; he needed to prove his worth to the newer and younger generation of knights and squires. If they had either heard tales of his battle prowess or actually knew him before his curse was irrelevant.

The blond man understood he was not the fiercest of warriors, nor was he the flashiest, but what he was... was experienced. He allowed Gwaine to nearly overtake him a few times as the clash of steel resounded again and again as Leon stayed for the most part on the defensive. He kept his features impassive, only offering a hint of surprise to show in his eyes for good measure.

The brunette's blade flashed and spun as he executed his deadly dance. And then Leon saw it.

It was the opening he had been waiting for years to see as he finally figured out how to counter the rogue's signature move. Gwaine's wrist twitched in a circular motion; one that could easily disarm many a man. Instead of fighting against it and trying to maintain his grip, he allowed Gwaine to easily disarm him. Quick as lightning he stepped into the rogue's space sweeping his foot behind the other man's ankle before catching his own sword and holding it above a very surprised Gwaine that was sprawled out on the ground.

Around him the sounds of the world came back. First his own breath and heartbeat ringing in his ears, followed by gasps of astonishment and then cheers of amazement from the men around him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as he secured his place before them as their commander. Leon stepped back and held out his hand to a very shocked Gwaine.

The rogue stood and laughed, "Wow, I have to say I'm speechless."

Leon chuckled and slapped him on the back before turning to the audience of men with a bow. As Hector called to the knights to pair off and continue with their own training, now that the show was over, Leon found his eyes drifting towards the gates at the edge of the training field. He'd been back in Camelot just over a week so he wasn't surprised to see Cai leaning casually against the wall watching him. Lisanor stood next to her brother, her hand linked over his elbow.

Gwaine chuckled next to him and Leon turned with a raised eyebrow to notice the roguish man looking in the same direction. "She is a pretty little thing. If Cai didn't know me, I'd try to make a move to court her."

"Oh really?" Leon snickered.

"Yeah, but after seeing what he did to that monster of a cat with only a shield," The brunette knight shivered visibly, "I don't care to get on his bad side. It's no wonder she hasn't married and it has nothing to do with her kid, if you know what I mean."

"Careful how you speak of my future wife, Gwaine," Leon stated evenly and turned back towards the siblings who were now making their way to them.

Leon heard Gwaine sputter an apology but failed to notice the look in the rogue's eye or how the man observed that it wasn't exactly Lisanor the older knight was looking at.

(*~*~*~*)

Candles and wall sconces lit the room just off the armory. Sir Hector had recently departed, leaving Leon alone with a pile of parchments and record books in front of him. Shelves lined the wall behind the desk, filled with more books and scroll cases. Many of the tomes held accounts of the knights of Camelot from years past; lists of men who served and perished in the name of the king and accounts of the battles they fought for glory and honor.

He read over Percival's scrawl from the past year, trying desperately to make sense of it. It was quite obvious the large knight didn't have any formal education and Leon's head was beginning to ache. Finally he sighed and sat back, rubbing his temples.

He was saved any further agony when someone knocked on the door. "Enter," He called gratefully and he stood when he saw Arthur and Merlin enter. Although it had become a normal part of life in Camelot to see these two men together, it still gave him pause to see Merlin no longer following the king as a servant. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to the man who before was always like a boy, appearing older and more mature now than the king.

"I thought we'd find you here!" Merlin chirped as he and Arthur sat down opposite the knight.

Leon shook his head and waved a hand over his desk, "I have a lot to catch up on, although I had sincerely hoped the paperwork would be the least of my worries."

Arthur chuckled, "I completely understand. I thought with the arrival of ...Lady Lisanor today you would put it aside."

Leon caught Arthur's stumble and saw the king's eyes flick towards Merlin. "He knows as well, Sire," the knight stated softly. A brief part of him had thought to have some amusement at what could be an interesting dance around certain topics of the conversation, but he decided he was too tired from the week of non-stop activities since his arrival home. It was best just to have the air cleared between them.

Both men looked at each other for the briefest of moments before breathing simultaneous sighs of relief.

"How did the introductions with your family go?" Arthur asked having known that Leon was planning to speak with his family about the marriage.

Leon bristled slightly, "My father thought the idea of Lisanor and I marrying was a grand one considering it was he and Lord Ector discussing it years ago. My mother on the other hand had plenty to say otherwise. I thought Cai was going to call everything off and take Lisanor back to Anjou tonight with the thinly veiled, yet polite insults Thea was dishing out concerning Lisanor and Loholt."

Merlin and Arthur glanced at each other and chuckled both comprehending how protective the dark-haired knight was.

"So what happened?" The warlock ventured to ask.

The knight chuckled, "My father put his foot down and reminded her of her own recent indiscretions. She closed her mouth right quick at that and welcomed Lisanor to the family."

"So everything is still copesetic for when the others arrive back to have a wedding?" Arthur asked.

Leon nodded, "It is. I think Lisanor would appreciate any help you think the queen might be willing to give. If not for her, than..."

"Nonsense! Guinevere would love the chance to plan for a wedding," Arthur said with surety. He had in fact already hinted to his wife over dinner about the proposed union and she suggested happily that she would be willing to assist if necessary.

"And you'd love the chance to plan for the tournament that would accompany the wedding," Merlin said dryly and was cuffed across the back of his skull for the comment.

"That reminds me I wanted to ask," Arthur leaned in and lowered his voice, "How is the whole wedding night thing going to work?"

Leon's face went pale. It was one thing to hear a similar question from Merlin, a completely different thing to have it asked by the king.

Merlin stared wide eyed in complete disbelief of the verbalized inquiry and nearly choked from the bluntness of it.

Arthur looked back and forth between them both before finally realizing the implications behind his words and then even he was blushing, "I didn't mean THAT part of it. I meant...like where were you planning to live or ...Oh gods I don't even know what I meant now." He pulled his hand across his face and scowled at the other two.

(*~*~*)

He was a curious sort, although he would never admit it out loud. Years of being pegged as a drunkard had many fooled about the intellect that was hidden just beneath the surface. Years of being a drunkard before that only added to the impressions. However those few that truly knew him, if they paid attention, would have realized that in recent times he acted more the intoxicated fool than he really was.

Right now, Gwaine was on a mission. He was determined to figure out how Leon floored him during the training session. The rogue knight walked through the main armory and into the anteroom that served as the commander's office. The three men sitting in there were an odd sight to behold, all blushing and laughing hysterically.

His lips quirked up and his eyes danced with mirth, "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," they answered simultaneously. Arthur appeared the worst, with a grimace of distaste on his face amidst the chuckles of pure embarrassment.

Gwaine leaned against the wall and eyed them all suspiciously, "Fine, I'll play this little game." He studied the three men silently and noticed how edgy Leon suddenly seemed while Merlin appeared to be thoroughly caught between stunned and flabbergasted. Much like when Morgana, or worse, Arthur, would get to teasing him about his night-time activities. "Ok, so Merlin here is obviously thinking about ducks..." Gwaine was rewarded when Merlin groaned and covered his face.

"Ducks?" Leon blinked turned his gaze towards the warlock, his eyebrows half-way up his forehead.

"Don't ask!" Merlin protested. Arthur burst out in nearly girlish giggles.

Gwaine sniggered, "Well I'm right on that. And..." He bit his lip and studied Leon and Arthur. His mind raced through the information. Leon was going to be getting married to Cai's sister, but something didn't fit right. The mortified sniggering between the three men as well as Merlin's continuing innocence outside his and Morgana's bedroom gave him pause. Suddenly his eyes widened in realization, "Oh bloody hell!"

"What?" Leon asked reluctantly.

"I was trying to take Cai to the wrong types of brothels, wasn't I?"

Merlin burst out laughing. Ever surprised at Gwaine's way with words, he couldn't stop himself. Finally gasping for air, he managed to control himself, although he nearly lost it again when he noticed how Arthur was glaring at Gwaine with a mix of wonder and suspicion and how Leon seemed to want nothing more than to crawl under the table.

Flipping his hair back Gwaine leaned over the desk, "You know there is this amazing bath house in Rome I once visited..."

The glower from Leon's eyes stopped the rogue's train of thought.

Merlin wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up, patting his friend on the shoulder, "C'mon Gwaine, I'll buy you a drink."

Gwaine shrugged and smiled before following the warlock out into the hall. His conversation with Leon about training could obviously wait until later.

"Gwaine," The king called after him before closing the door.

The rogue turned around and was met with a meaningful look. He nodded in understanding, knowing full well this new revelation was not meant for public knowledge.

Arthur sat back down after latching the door. He and Leon's eyes met and the snickering started again.

Grinning Leon had to ask, "Ducks?"

Sighing heavily the king began to tell Leon the tale of the morning after Merlin's wedding and the dragon child. He spoke of young Galahad and also how Lancelot had returned with them all. Leon questioned the reappearance of the once honorable knight. Merlin mentioned something to him of it, but Arthur helped to fill in the blanks. It was well into the night when they finally parted ways.

The knight commander looked at his desk and realized he still had stacks of papers to go through. He picked up the next pile and sat back to read. When Percival returned that boy was in for an earful on how to properly record everything.

* * *

_Thank you Nance! edits applied If you're able to email shoot me an msg at moonfox dot bkb at gmail dot com :-)_


	2. Chapter 2 Signs of Sorcery

"What the hell do you mean I can't offer Gilli a knighthood?" Arthur asked in frustration as he flung his cape across the table in his solar.

Merlin sighed and roughly ran his calloused hands over his face.

"I don't want George back and you said you would find me another servant!" The king pointed out, whining like a spoiled prat.

Leon stood off to the side attempting to stifle his amusement, while the warlock offered a blank stare at his cousin. "I need Gilli where he is. By your side, Arthur. Not out on some random patrol. I know knighting him, a man with magic and the ability to use a sword, would be a huge step forward in showing the people you are serious about accepting it, but find someone else to be your token sorcerer slash knight, please."

The king glared at Merlin before glancing over towards Leon, "You've met him, you've seen that he has skill with a sword and his deeds have proven his loyalty. What do you have to say about this?"

The blond knight looked stunned and weighed his words carefully, "I would accept him and train him as a knight if that is what you wish, Sire. I agree he has more potential that simply being a servant."

"He already is more than a servant!" Merlin argued and the other two looked at him in confusion. He took a deep breath and sighed again. He was saved when someone knocked at the door and Gilli popped his head in.

"My Lords?"

"Yes Gilli what is it?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"I wanted to see if you needed anything," he stated reluctantly.

"You know, why don't you just ask him and then we can save ourselves some headache," the warlock grumbled.

Arthur glowered and motioned for Gilli to come into the room. "Fine then. Gilli what would you think if I offered you a place among the knights?" He stood proudly, secure in his knowledge that as king he wouldn't be refused. He nearly choked on air when the servant responded.

"Thank you, Sire. I appreciate the honor, but I don't think my employer would appreciate if I were to accept such a thing."

"Your employer?" Leon hissed, his hand immediately going to his sword as suspicions ran through his mind. He relaxed slightly when Merlin snorted.

Daggers of ice shot out of the king's eyes at his former servant, "What do you mean, your employer?" he asked Gilli without breaking eye contact with Merlin, already suspecting the truth.

"He means I am the one who hired him and put him in a place where I can best protect you through him. If you made Gilli a knight then he wouldn't be able to shadow you and move in circles that I no longer can thanks to being made a noble and all."

"I didn't MAKE you a noble," he spat.

"No, but you didn't have to acknowledge it. I was perfectly happy to come back and take my place at your side. I can't even walk around the Lower Town without people watching me now! I needed someone who can; someone with magic and skill to take care of himself and help keep your supercilious arse out of trouble. So I hired Gilli as your servant."

Leon grinned slightly as he caught on to Merlin's reasoning, "He's right, Sire." He waited for the king to look at him before continuing, "Perhaps an honorary knighthood that could be kept secret would be a better position for the boy?"

"Uh, standing right here while you lot discuss my fate," Gilli muttered.

The three men looked at him. "Alright, Gilli, what do you want us to do?"

The servant glanced at Merlin who nodded for him to go ahead and voice his opinion. "I think the secret knighthood would be best. Although, Sire you do really need a whole team of servants to keep up with your demanding schedule, but I feel my place...especially after the last few months, is silently by your side."

The knight and the king looked at the boy with a sense of new-found appreciation as he continued.

"When I first came to Camelot I had the opportunity to..." he swallowed and glanced at Merlin for support, "I could have killed King Uther in the tournament."

Arthur's eyes narrowed at this revelation and he gave Merlin a sideways glance for confirmation. He took a measured breath and pinched his lips, but kept silent while the young sorcerer continued.

"Merlin stopped me. I didn't understand why and although I finally realized that it would have been wrong, I still thought it wrong of him to hide in the shadows when he could so easily have taken out the one man that caused so much suffering. We parted on...well not really good terms, but we had an understanding and my gut said to trust him.

"It took longer than I thought, but when I heard the laws changed and such I truly began to see his sacrifice. If I had killed Uther it would have changed nothing. It was him being more patient than the gods and letting you find your own path, Sire, that allowed for things to become better for us and our kin.

"That is why I am your servant, My Lord, but I work for Merlin. If he feels it would be in the best interest of the kingdom and our kind for me to stay silently at your side then well I may grumble and complain, but I do it for him."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Lovely, my cousin has his own secret society of magical body guards."

The other three men chuckled, understanding the compliment hidden behind the outward annoyance. "Sire, from all you have told me of Gilli's accomplishments thus far, a position equal to a knight would be in order, but it needs to be much more subtle to allow for the movement required to protect you."

"As your servant, Gilli can go virtually anywhere you go Arthur and he can access many places in the seedier areas that even the knights can't get to. Especially with everything that's been happening as the Golden Age of Albion dawns under your rule. I need someone I can trust to protect you at your side. He is that person."

Leon turned and studied the young man. He had promise to make an exceptional knight if that was the path he chose, but it said much more about his character that he would rather remain at the king's side in the guise of a servant, much as Merlin had done for years. "I will train him secretly as a knight, Sire," the older knight offered.

"And when are you going to have time?" The king snickered thinking about the upcoming wedding. He stood silently for a moment in thought with his arms crossed over his chest. "No, since you are my servant I will train you personally, Gilli."

The young sorcerer looked on in wide-eyed wonder at the three powerful men before him. "Sire, I... I don't know what to say."

"Say 'Thank you, My Lord'," Merlin encouraged.

(*~*~*~*~*)

The path was known only to a handful of the hardiest souls; mostly smugglers and ruffians who had nothing to lose. It was far to the south of the gorge and to the bridge most commonly referred to when crossing into the Perilous Lands from Mercia. Tristan led a handful of men through the dark treacherous tunnels. While it took nearly three days to navigate the passages, it saved time in the long run.

Alvarr assured them that the hidden path would lead the party close enough to the tomb of an ancient king and avoid many of the dangers in the wyvren-infested lands. Without it they would have needed to follow the gorge up into Mercia and then hope that the crafty little bridgekeeper would allow them passage; before adding on another two days, or more, of back tracking.

Tristan was reluctant to ask the sorcerer where the information came from, as he learned long ago it was sometimes better to not know those things. The few dealings the two men had previously always ended up profitable for them both, so there was no reason to expect that this would be the exception.

The Perilous Lands were just as Tristan anticipated from the last couple of times he had been through. Absolute and utter nothingness. Barren rocks and decaying tree stumps, a few nasty swamps, and complete lack of habitation was all that these lands had to offer.

The smuggler kept his eyes on the sky, wary of danger, but after a few hours the lack of wyvrens only served to increase his nervousness. With the hastily drawn map Alvarr had provided them, it didn't take more than a day to located the landmarks and finally spot the three massive stones that served as the entrance marker to the dolmen*.

(*~*~*~*~*)

The rain fell gently and cleansed his spirit as well as his body. The smell of the wet pine and ferns, the rhythmic pulse of the water rattling the branches and rustling against the leaves of the deciduous trees; it all seemed so new to him again. The last time he passed through here as a whole man was when he set off to free his sister. So long ago. He never understood how it was that he didn't go completely bonkers from the centuries. Much of it was blur after Taliesin left, Bran couldn't even begin to know if he had even been awake during that time or if he had slept.

Rolling his shoulders as the slow methodical movements of the horse under his seat carried him towards his home once more. His fingernails still held a tint of green, but after a few weeks of travel and a good scrubbing, Brân Fendigaidd, first son of the Fisher King and heir to Corbenic, felt almost human again. Despite having been given the offer of returning to Camelot he knew his place was to be on his own throne. It would take many years to rebuild all that the centuries had laid to waste. The sooner he started on it, the better it would be for everyone.

All the time and travels, losing his body, his family, his lands...nothing could prepare for what he saw as he crested the hill in Mercia that overlooked the valley into Corbenic. The rain steadily grew heavier and the clouds ominously darker as he neared. He barely made out the edge of the forest as it passed over the river gorge where Grettir's camp should be. A black wall of clouds, similar to what they had recently faced in the hell dimension stood out and obscured any sign of the land beyond.

Yet even from this distance Bran could ascertain that the storm clouds, while unnaturally thick and dark, were indeed still just clouds and not the undulating mass of spirits. He glanced back at the borrowed servants and squire with the cart carrying the cauldron that caused so much strife. He planned to bring it home find a way to restore the lands from his father's curse and then see if there was a way to destroy the blasted thing. Although he knew if such a thing was possible it would likely destroy him as well. He had no family left and save for the two old magical guardians no friends from before. Lady Clarissant was kind to him, but with her husband and new child arriving, he remained honorably aloof from her.

Merlin was a kindred spirit in many ways, as was the king, and many of the other knights Bran had become recently familiar with. Perhaps it was foolish of him to think he could regain his throne and restore Corbenic.

He took a final evaluating gaze from the ridge through the downpour wondering at the maelstrom beyond the gorge before motioning the others onward. They would reach Grettir's camp within the hour and hopefully find some reprieve from the storm before moving across the bridge and closer to his home.

The torrents of rain only seemed to increase as they neared the gateway to Corbenic and the trees offered little protection as they groaned and strained against their roots. Many of the weaker branches broke off and littered the forest floor making it nearly impossible for them to bring the small cart through the already rough terrain.

Suddenly it was as if a bubble of magic rose up around them. Grettir sat smiling from the fallen log near his fire and started to welcome the travelers. He stopped and a look of awe filled his face when he caught sight of Bran.

"My Lord," He stood and bowed before the prince. "I see you found what you had lost. Hopefully you made sure it was screwed on tighter this time. And that color is a very smart choice."

"Hush dwarf!" The prince roared with a laugh and greeted the short man.

"Come and sit, all of you! The tempest has been growing and as you can see," he motioned to the bridge, "This is as far as you can go for now."

Bran looked to where Grettir had motioned and the storm that raged beyond his camp. The bridge that had stood for hundreds of years was all but gone. He felt his heart sink.

His face darkened and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. Although he knew his homecoming would hold no fanfare and celebration he at least thought he would make it home. "I finally return with my father's cauldron and I can't even make it across?"

"I'm sorry, my prince, I tried to keep the magic in place as long as I could, but the powers beyond are as strong as the land itself. And it is awakening."

"What is, Grettir?"

"The demon that brought together the five kingdoms. The one your father helped to entomb."

Bran finally turned away from the devastation of the bridge and leveled his gaze at the keeper.

"He never told you the story, did he?" Grettir clucked his tongue, "Well sit and have some soup and I can tell you of it."

* * *

_AN:__*dolmen-also known as a portal tomb, portal grave, or quoit, is a type of single-chamber megalithic tomb, usually consisting of three or more upright stones supporting a large flat horizontal capstone (table), although there are also more complex variants_

_HUGE MASSIVE AND BEAUTIFUL THANK YOU to Nance for proof-reading (and generally being an absolute goddess of the English language) and IcarusLSU for plot and flow assistance._

_Megami- don't choke or you won't be able to read more of the fic!_

_Helen - Aylass said she will try if she can find the right footage. Thanks!_

_Nance- you already know you are amazing! Thanks!_

_Monkeymail- are you really surprised I managed to make that awkward? I think it's my specialty LOL_

_Icarus- yeah you know what's coming LOL _


	3. Chapter 3- Homecomings

_**AMAZINGLY HUGE THANKS (as always) to my proofreading puffin Nance **_

_**and Icarus for being a good squirrel catcher (because plot bunnies are so last year)**_

_**Also thank you as always (again) to all you wonderful readers and reviewers!**_

* * *

Leon groaned and stretched as he awoke. His neck and shoulders ached from sleeping slumped over in his office chair. To any of the knights, servants, or squires that passed through the armory it was a familiar site; many had not realized they actually missed in the past year. Most weren't even certain if the hard-working knight even had an actual home outside of his castle chambers, or the office he normally fell asleep in.

The knight commander had only managed to make it through a small amount of the backlog. Leon expected some extra work when he returned home, but at the time he didn't realize that it would take a year to return. As third in command, Geriant would have normally taken over the duties, but his death left a vacancy in the normally rigid structure.

Neither Percival nor Sir Hector were known for their resounding ability to complete paperwork. Under Uther's regime Arthur was in charge in his position as first knight for all the troops. Prior to his coming of age it was Sir Hector, who had not been the most studious of record keepers, and in recent months had only stepped back into the position grudgingly.

Leon took over after Uther fell ill and Arthur began his regency when they realized Uther would never again rule properly as king. Leon had no qualms with sticking to the precise method Arthur used. He enjoyed doing it, as it would bring him a sense of quiet accomplishment after a hard day of riding training and patrols. Teaching Brom, his squire, to assist him was a simple enough idea, although the young man wasn't the best at sitting quietly at a desk. Leon had hoped he would have tried to keep up with it somewhat.

Looking over some of the recent records of the past winter Leon noticed Brom's name popped up a couple times...not in the best of circumstances. Percival's scrawl and Hector's oddly inaccurate notations had Leon completely confused regarding the incidents.

Leon tossed the current stack of parchment onto the desk, marveling briefly at how he somehow kept hold of them in his slumber. If the report was to be believed Brom and Cai had gotten into a fight and Loholt, the boy Leon was hoping to meet soon, was stuck in the middle. It appeared that Hector had lead that patrol personally. Amazingly one of them had the young boy write out his own account of what happened. He didn't know if the others even read it, but it didn't quite match up with the rest of the accounts. Something was missing in the reports.

He stood glanced out the window before realizing how late in the morning it appeared to be. He made a mental note to arrange for a new squire soon. If anything just to have someone wake him in time for morning training. He wasn't too concerned, since his return Arthur had taken over most of the practice sessions in order to prove to himself, and others, he was still fighting fit. Although it didn't take a genius to realize the king's age had seemed to regress a bit, Leon figured it was probably a side effect from Merlin's spell.

The curse he was under had been cast to keep him frozen so Arthur could survive; Merlin, in the end, channeled his own life force through his hawthorn and bronze magical staff to give to the king. He chuckled to himself thinking of the two men. Their relationship was still very similar to the previous dynamics of master and servant... or as much of a servant as Merlin's mouthy soliloquies ever allowed him to be. Looking at the two together now was a different story. These days they actually appeared closer to how they had always acted. The young king and his slightly older, and wiser, adviser. He supposed that was how it had truthfully been even before the outward appearance solidified it.

A knock at the door of the office broke him out of his musings as he worked his way around the office attempting to put it back in order. "Enter," he called.

He was pleasantly surprised at the honey haired girl that peeked inside, "There you are!"

"Where else would I be?" He laughed, "There's a lot for me to catch up on before I can focus on our plans. Come on in, My Lady."

"I'm surprised you haven't conned my brother into assisting you."

Leon's smile rose as he thought of Cai who was currently riding with a patrol to the western garrison. He sighed and his face dimmed slightly, "I probably would have, but it seems there were a few altercations this past year and I need to sort it all out before I allow anyone to help."

"Altercations?" Lisanor asked curiously.

"Yes, including one involving Cai and Loholt. Also, Bedivere has his own complaints from bullying some of the townsfolk," he sighed and ran a hand through his curls.

Lisanor nodded, not seeming the least bit surprised to hear this as she came into the room fully and held out a small wrapped bundle to Leon.

"Things like this happen often?" Leon asked seriously. He loved Cai immensely, but both men agreed that they were hardly more than strangers now and it would take time to get fully acquainted again. He took the cloth wrapped bundle and opened it, realizing she had brought him some fresh bread and cheese. "Oh Lisanor, thank you. Wherever did you get the bread from?"

"Your sister sent me an invitation to join her this morning. She finally heard the news from your mother and wanted to extend her congratulations. As thanks I helped her bake some bread up. I can't wait to get my own kitchen again however." The young woman paused and gazed off for a moment thinking about the house Leon recently purchased for after their nuptials. "I do have to admit I assumed Rachel would have been more like your mother."

The knight laughed, "No Chandra is more like Thea than Rachel is. I don't think Rachel even employs a maid. She is very self-sufficient."

"Chandra is the youngest correct?"

"No Chandra is your age. Rachel is two years younger. You don't seem too surprised to find out your brothers have been having some issues since coming to Camelot?" He asked as he tore off a small piece of the half-loaf and paired it with some cheese before popping it in his mouth.

"Where Bedivere is concerned, no, I can't say that I am. Although, he has been rather well behaved since we came back to Camelot."

Leon snorted, "That's not very encouraging; and Cai?"

"Since when does my eldest brother share anything of that relevance with me?"

The knight sighed, "Alright then. So what did Loholt tell you?"

"Last time he was home over two months ago he was busy telling me about the man he killed when Cai and Merlin were supposedly captured and his new friend who had been turned into a pig. There was a slight mention of something happening concerning other nobles after that, but he and Cai stressed, overly much so I might add, that they were both fine."

Leon chewed on another piece of the bread and looked over the notes in front of him. No closer to figuring out what he was missing.

"Would you like my help organizing this mess?" She asked casting her eyes around the room with a grimace.

Leon thought about it for a few moments, "I thought you would be focused on getting things ready for our wedding?"

She chuckled and spread her hands out, "Unless this gets organized it appears I might not have a groom to share any wedding with."

He laughed outright at what was probably a very correct assessment, "Fine! Since you put it so eloquently; I will gladly accept your assistance," he handed her one of the ledger books filled with Percival's barely legible script and watched as her eyes widened in disbelief. "Can you even interpret it?"

She snickered, "Barely! Luckily it wasn't too long ago I was teaching Loholt his calligraphy, and in truth this isn't near as bad as Bedivere's."

"Remind me never to have him write a report then," Leon laughed. He remembered meeting Bedivere in the hellish dream state, but neither of them took time to speak to each other as the one-handed man would occasional pin the blond knight with suspicious glares.

It was nearly midday when Leon finally became frustrated with the process. It was much smoother with the extra set of eyes to interpret the notes, but annoying nonetheless, "My Lady, I believe I have reached the end of my patience with all of this today. I think it is about time we went for some fresh air."

Lisanor gladly closed the ledger book and set down the coal pencil she was using, "You used to do this all yourself?"

"No, Geriant..." he felt a pang of sadness at his lost friend before continuing, "He used to assist me and I also had a squire to help as well."

Just as he held out his arm for her to depart the office a young knight came rushing in. "Sir, the king sent for you. The guards have spotted the caravan returning," The knight glanced at Lisanor when she gasped in excitement. He sneered at her and turned back towards Leon, "Sorry Sir, I didn't realize you were entertaining company." The tone of his voice was laden with implications.

Leon paused and evaluated the man, "Forgive me, I don't believe we've formally met?" He released his arm from Lisanor and held out his hand as he approached the kid with a neutral face.

"I'm Vortimer, Sir," He smiled gleefully, thinking his words had made an impression. Which they did, but not in the way the young man expected. Leon recognized the name from being one of the witnesses to the altercation between Cai and Brom. He wasn't certain who this young knight had been squired to, but something about him just struck him as wrong.

As Leon reached out he grabbed the young man's forearm his smile turned cold and his voice lowered threateningly, "That is no proper way to address a lady, Sir Vortimer. Much less the one that will soon be my wife," He pinned the boy with a stare that held little room for forgiveness if the boy ever spoke that way to Lisanor again.

Leon released him easily and stepped back to see what the other knight would do. Clearing his throat the boy stared at the ground, "Forgive me Sir Leon."

Leon watched him and waited, but the boy made no other move or utterance. "You should apologize to Lady Lisanor as well," He seriously disliked having to prompt any knight for honorable behavior.

"My apologies, My Lady," He muttered.

Leon glanced at Lisanor and she nodded, "Thank you Sir Vortimer."

"Be on your way now boy. Tell King Arthur we will join him momentarily," The man bowed and turned to leave. "Oh and just so you know Vortimer if I hear of you disrespecting any lady ever again, be she the queen or a street urchin, I have no qualms of putting a knight in the stocks or worse depending on the offense. Just ask Sir Gwaine."

Vortimer swallowed hard and bolted out of the room.

Once he was gone Lisanor chuckled and took Leon's arm, "I think you scared the wits out of him."

"Good, that boy lacks manners and general tact. Shall we go welcome your son and others home, My Lady?"

(*~*~*~*~*)

Percival breathed and let out a hoot when the gates of Camelot finally came into view. He and the others were ready to be home. Many of the others with him shared similar sentiments. The group was even smaller than it was when it first left from the northern area. Bran left the party not long after a stop in Lothian to pay his respects to King Gaheris before setting off across Mercia towards his own neglected kingdom. A cart, servant, and Sir Tarnin's squire rode with him as escort for the ancient cauldron. The uncrowned king of Corbenic wanted nothing more than the bare minimum. Although Percival tried to convince him to take Bedivere as well... no one wanted to deal with the disfigured man's moods. Morgana, Vivienne and a few others broke off as they came closer to the citadel.

Bedivere seemed to be about the only one not overjoyed with returning to Camelot, but the one-handed knight rarely took pleasure in anything. Even Loholt, who was normally able to handle his uncle's dark moods, was edgy and skittish around the large man. Two more weeks and he would be fourteen. In his mind his birthday couldn't come soon enough.

He was young for being a squire, as most pages didn't get the opportunity for promotion until they were at least fifteen. For a select few at age sixteen, they could petition to train under one of the elite knights of Camelot. Loholt knew with his family history he had a greater chance than most to be allowed to train among them as his uncle Cai and his father had.

Before the loss of his hand, Bedivere was granted a position in the selective training as well. Loholt realized it was more due to the elder brother's excellence in the training rather than Bedivere's own skill. His friendship with the crown prince didn't hurt either. The best the one-handed man could have hoped for on his own was the status of a hedge knight; which was essentially what he became until his family's return to Camelot.

Loholt couldn't quite figure out why Bedivere seemed to be so testy about returning. There were a few snide comments made only in Loholt's hearing; that the boy knew had something to do with Cai. Other than that, the blond boy let whatever Bedivere would say go in one ear and out the other. Loholt was careful to conceal any soreness and aches; he made no complaints and didn't give Bedivere any reason to punish him. He wished he'd been allowed to go on the ship with the king and the others, but the vessel only had so much space for passengers. He hoped that when he turned fourteen he would be able to squire for the king or one of the other knights, although he doubted if Bedivere would be willing to release him to anyone else.

As they entered the courtyard they received a warm welcome from a gathering of knights and nobles. Arthur greeted Percival first while Clarissant was swept up in her brother's arms. Laughs and smiles beamed from nearly every face. Loholt stood back from the crowd with his uncle who looked on with disdain. "Get the horses taken care of then make sure everything is cleaned and stored," he ordered his nephew.

Loholt nodded somberly. He saw his mother across the throng of people and gave her a soft smile. She beckoned him to come to her, but he just shook his head and held up the reins of the horses to indicate he still had work to do before turning and leading the animals towards the stables.

(*~*)

Percival caught sight of Leon and swept the older man up in a bear hug. Leon was laughing, first at the younger knight's antics and then at his crestfallen expression when Leon mentioned the rotten bookkeeping skills.

"Leon, this is my wife Clarissant," he beamed with pride as he introduced his bride.

The older knight took her hand and gave a slight bow, "It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady. May I offer to you my deepest sympathies to you."

Her brown eyes widened in suspicious confusion, "Did someone die?"

"No, I meant only the tragedy that has befallen you for being related to Gwaine."

"Thank you, Sir Leon, my heart is heavy with that knowledge as well," She responded with feigned sorrow.

"HEY!" The rogue knight protested before they were all chortling again.

Many other greetings were extended throughout the gathering as Leon made his way through the crowd before finding himself back near Lisanor. His mood darkened slightly as he came upon her and Bedivere in a hushed argument. With a smile in place he held out his hand to the man, "Bedivere, it is good to see you again."

The dark haired knight looked at the outstretched hand for a moment before meeting Leon's eyes. He glared as he grasped the older knight's forearm and pulled them together briefly. "I know what you are," he whispered to Leon, his voice heavy with contempt before shoving himself back. Bedivere then spun on his heel and stalked away.

Leon stood for a moment completely confused by the other's reaction. He turned to Lisanor with a quizzical glance, "What was that about?"

"I don't know," she said, a tremor in her voice. "He wanted me to start packing and said he was going to take us back home."

Running a hand through his hair he watched the retreating back and realized the large man was heading towards the stables. "I'll be back," he said before following Bedivere.

(*~*~*)

Loholt leaned his head against his horse's neck, thankful for the small bit of reprieve from his uncle. The curry comb in his hand absently moving with the grain of the hairs across his bay's side, working out the sweat stains from the saddle.

"You lazy little bastard," he heard from the stall door, "aren't you done yet?"

The boy stiffened and began working again in earnest. Before the trip north, Bedivere had always been gruff with him and rarely spared taking a strap or switch to his backside if Loholt stepped out of line, but since that time the large man had suffered from more violent moods. His outbursts were kept in check before the groups split up to journey back to Camelot, however, once Cai left with the king on the sailing vessels there was no one able to rein in the outbursts. Percival confronted Bedivere about it and after that the one-handed knight was wary about acting out in view of the others. That didn't mean Loholt was spared when the rest of the group wasn't looking.

Something had seriously changed, but for the life of him Loholt couldn't figure out what it was. All he knew was that he had somehow turned into the outlet for his uncle's rages. Before Bedivere would defend him against anyone calling him a bastard, now the large man was the one that threw the word around easily.

"Sorry Uncle, I was just..."

He felt the palm of Bedivere's hand cuffing the back of his head harshly, "You need to be careful about what you call me in public, boy. How many times do I have to beat that lesson into you?"

"But there's no one in here but us!" The boy protested, cowering slightly. Bedivere grabbed Loholt's shoulder roughly and spun the boy to face him.

"Bedivere!" A voice called out from the stable door. The large man turned to see Leon striding towards them. "Is there a problem here?"

"No Sir," he spat as the blond knight stopped in front of him. He cast a warning glance at Loholt before he tried to push past Leon.

The knight commander stopped him by clamping his hand on Bedivere's shoulder and he leaned in towards the dark haired man. His voice was low and measured, "We were friends once upon a time. I considered you like a brother to me but I will not stand by as you abuse your size and position against a defenseless squire simply because you cannot hold your temper."

"And who the hell do you think you are deciding how I treat my own squire?" He snarled trying to shove out of Leon's grip.

Leon had no qualms about shoving back and essentially pinning the man between himself and the door frame of the stall, "I am the First Knight of Camelot after the king and your commander as a member of those knights. You would do well to remember that. Things may have become more lax during my absence but make no mistake, I will not allow you or anyone else to tarnish the reputation of the crest we wear. Is that understood?"

Bedivere's eyes narrowed and he looked to say something but other voices broke through the stalemate of the two men facing off. Other people came into the stables leading the rest of the horses from the incoming party. His eyes shifted away from Leon's glare and he nodded, unused to having anyone, save his brother, actually stand up to him.

Leon released him and watched distrustfully as Bedivere stalked away before turning back to the boy. He offered Loholt a friendly smile, "Are you alright?"

Loholt could only nod mutely. Other than Cai, no one dared stand against Bedivere and his temper like that. He could see now why Leon was so highly regarded by the other knights. Leon patted his back and despite his efforts, the boy flinched slightly from pain.

The movement did not go unnoticed by the knight commander who only shook his head and sighed softly, "Finish your duties and then go see your mother." Leon gave him an tight-lipped smile before he left the stables.

The boy was trembling as he turned back towards his horse and finished his chores. For the first time in weeks, he smiled in relief.

(*~*~*~*)

The white stone was cold under her fingertips as she traced out every relief carved on its surface. Vivienne's hands shook and silent tears streamed down her face. She knew years ago when her husband had perished; felled by an enemy's blade. Her skill with scrying wasn't the best, but it was enough to tell her when Gorlois had died. She mourned for him then, but seeing the stone etched with an epitaph to her brave warrior, it finally struck home.

The grief in her heart welled up and it was as if she was losing him again. She mourned not only for him, but for the daughter she gave up so long ago and the grandson she never knew. Her mind was a chaos-filled pit of "if onlys". Vivienne collapsed against the stones, weeping from the depths of her soul. Before it had been an abstract sorrow, an intangible ache, today it was real. Over twenty years ago she lost her husband. On this day, in her heart, he truly died.

Morgana held back. Part of her wanted nothing more than to console her grieving mother, but to Morgana, Gorlois had died long ago and she felt uneasy intruding on the older woman's sorrow. The raven-haired woman looked over her shoulder at the gleaming city across the hills. She cupped the stone hanging around her neck and thought of her own husband. He was so close and yet in a place she was forbidden to enter, just as her mother had been all those years before.

The difference being, Morgana felt a warmth and comfort entering her heart as Merlin silently gave her strength. The younger woman moved up to her mother and gathered the ageing lady in her arms. She felt her walls begin to crumble and they commiserated in their grief.

Morgana thought about her decision to head to Gawant before moving on to Cornwall. As if reading her thoughts Vivienne turned to her daughter, "Go and meet your husband where it is safe. Spend all the time you can with him, you never know when it will be taken away."

She watched as later that day her mother turned towards Camelot escorted by a knight. Aithusa and the rest of the caravan had gone on ahead hours ago while the two ladies of Cornwall paid their respects at the grave marker. The girl was anxious to see her father again. Morgana sighed and stood next to her horse while they rode away. They would get word to Merlin and, in a day or two, she would see him again as he braved his mother to tell her the news of his marriage.

"Is there anything I can do to help, My Lady?" George asked respectfully.

Morgana shook her head somberly, "Not unless you can somehow get me into Camelot unnoticed to see my husband. It's not Camelot I want to see, but..."

"Well it has been a few years since you were there. I'm sure not everyone would recognize you."

She turned to glance at the servant, "Perhaps not, but I think enough would. I did grow up there in the public's eye and after all that I did..."

The mousy man chuckled softly, "You are no longer that person, as your husband and many others have tried to tell you, My Lady. Why don't you change the way you look? You did it before. Last year when your dark persona brought Princess Mithian into the castle."

Rolling her eyes she prepared to mount her horse, "Oh and go see my husband looking like an old lady? No thanks."

"Well actually, I was simply going to suggest a minor alteration this time, My Lady," George said with a secretive smirk.

Morgana's eyebrows rose intrigued, "Go on."


	4. Chapter 4 Duck noses

**_Ok there are a few different things happening in this chapter, so I put a "where" tag at the top of each individual section. _**

**_Everybody give a round of applause for the squirrely plot catcher (Icarus) and the Proofreader Puffin (Nance) for all their help with this story. I hope I can make it the best one yet!_**

**_Thanks for the reviews! _**

* * *

_Border of Mercia..._

Reluctantly, Bran cast one final look at the bridge before turning his horse away. He was leaving the sacred cauldron and the men who journeyed with him in the care of the dwarf, as the storm raged on around them. The winds were intensifying, and it became obvious after the story that the eye of the storm was somewhere over his lands. His only hope was to find the source of the unnatural tempest, which Grettir surmised would be located at an ancient tomb that Bran's father had helped to seal when the allegiance among the five kingdoms began. With a crude map he rode out as hard as he dared to the south hoping to find the tunnels that would lead into the Perilous Lands.

(*~*~*~*)

_Tomb in Perilous Lands..._

Tristan hunkered down in the entrance to the dolmen and watched as the storm progressed outside. The day was clear when he and his party entered before all hell broke loose as an unseen trap was sprung. Now only he remained. One man, the idiot who set off the trap, was crumpled beneath the stone archway; his body nothing but cold lifeless flesh. Two of the others ran off in fear, as Tristan and the last man accompanying him attempted to take shelter behind a pillar. As soon as they hit the outside they were swept away by the maelstrom.

Jack had a brilliant idea to put the stone back in the keyhole where the dead man had pulled it from. The first half of the plan worked and Tristan now held the key stone in his hand, although he was injured from the effort. Unfortunately, as Jack attempted to make his way toward the stone wall, a loose stone was picked up by the torrent of wind. The man never even saw his end coming.

He took inventory of his supplies which started and ended with a half of a skin-full of water. He wiped the back of his sleeve across his forehead and noted how the blood had finally stopped flowing from his wound. If he didn't find a way to stop the storm, or escape it, he knew he would never see his daughter again.

(*~*~*~*)

_ Back in Camelot..._

"I have a letter from mam!" Aithusa said enthusiastically as she walked beside her father.

"You do?" Merlin responded excitedly. He had been reluctant to admit to anyone how much he missed his new wife. Through the stone he felt her just a little while before the travellers arrived, and he sent out a strong wave of love and strength towards her. Then he was all too soon distracted by the squealing little bundle of giggles in his arms.

Aithusa pulled out the slightly crumpled parchment from her pocket and he accepted it with a smile. The dragon girl went scurrying off through the crowded courtyard while he began to read it.

The letter was a simple missive informing him that she was planning on traveling to Gawant. The couple had agreed to meet there the day after the travelers reached Camelothian lands. He smiled and read the words with a dreamy look on his face.

His head shot up suddenly as a familiar scream filled the air and he saw Aithusa rushing towards him; tears streaming down her face. Merlin scooped the child up in his arms, attempting to calm her enough to explain what happened.

Between her sobs he managed to deduce that someone had eaten her nose. Although, looking at her face, he could find no sign of damage. Blue eyes cast about the crowd and finally landed on Leon who was looking directly at him with a playful smirk.

A few minutes earlier...

Aithusa was skipping through the crowd happily. She saw Lady Lisanor standing off by herself. She promised her father she wouldn't threaten to eat her again, but the young woman was fun to scare. Sneaking up by the woman's side, Aithusa brushed against her softly to get Lisanor's attention.

Lisanor looked down and startled slightly at the dragon child. "Hello Aithusa," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"I don't have to worry about you now. My father and my mam are married," her sing-song voice held just a hint of arrogance.

"I heard, I'm very happy for you all," Lisanor responded, trying to keep her voice pleasant.

"I promised father I wouldn't say I'd eat you again, but there are other things I can do besides eat..."

A man's voice interrupted whatever else she was going to say. "You must be Merlin's daughter?" He asked.

She turned to look up the man with the blond curls and she responded politely, "I am, sir."

Leon, having just returned from the stables, knelt down to the girl's height. He gave her a friendly smile, "I would have thought someone like you would have better manners than to threaten a lady."

Her eyes narrowed at the man wondering who he was and why he thought he could tell her how to behave.

"I heard how you threatened to eat Lady Lisanor here. I find that very uncalled for and highly improper for a girl of your status."

Aithusa glared at him, how dare he tell her what to do. Especially since she never met the man before.

He continued to talk, "I don't think you realize just how good of a cook Lady Lisanor is. She can do amazing things with exotic ingredients like dragon tails."

The girl's eyes widened for a moment. "You're trying to tease me and she can't cook it if she can't see it," Aithusa stated, proud in her reasoning.

Leon shrugged as if it didn't matter, "Well then, maybe I'll just have to settle for a snack out of a duck's nose." His hand came up and he deftly pinched her nose between his knuckles. When he pulled it back he held a stub of flesh between them which he quickly popped into his mouth and began chewing.

The dragon girl stared at the knight for a few seconds. Disbelief and fear etching her pale features before she turned and ran screaming for her father.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Lisanor giggled in delight when her son finally appeared at the door of her guest quarters in the castle. She ushered him in and threw her arms around his neck when she was hit with the sudden realization that her baby boy was now slightly taller than her. "I thought I had expressly forbidden you to grow up!" She teased lovingly.

He beamed at his mother and to prove himself, he picked her up and spun her around. "I missed you."

"And I, you. Now put me down!" She laughed.

He did as she requested, and then followed her over to a table where a light meal waiting for him. He felt a bit self-conscious as she watched him tuck into the food. "Is something wrong?"

She chuckled and shook her head, "No, I'm just so happy to see you again. How was the trip?"

"Didn't Uncle Cai tell you about it?"

"He did, but I want to hear it from you! Especially since I have no idea what has happened with you since we parted ways."

"Well," he studied his food, "It was ok. We got to see Lothian again, but it was pretty uneventful."

She leveled an irritated gaze on her son, "You give nearly as much description as your uncle."

He laughed, "Where is Cai?"

"Out on a short patrol to the east into Essetir. There was reports of a storm moving in and the king wanted to make sure the towns east of Anjou are holding up." She bit the side of her lip and glanced at her son, "What's going on with Bedivere?"

Loholt sighed, his appetite leaving him. "Since they came out of the cave he changed. I've never known him so angry in my whole life. Before Uncle Cai left with the king he was alright, but as soon as Cai was gone..." He pushed the plate away from him, "Well, he was different."

She squeezed his arm in concern, "What happened?"

He pulled back and she saw the emotional walls similar to the ones her eldest brother maintained come down over her son's eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. So how have you been?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Don't do this to me, Loholt."

"What? I've had to deal with serving him and doing everything but wipe his arse the past few weeks, mum. I don't want to talk about it right now!"

Lisanor was taken back by her son's outburst, so unlike his normally easy-going demeanor. She stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He sighed and leaned back against his mother, relishing in the comfort she was offering. He shook his head, "No. I'm sorry mum, it's just been hard."

She pressed her lips to the hair on top of his head, "I know. Hopefully we can get something figured out so you won't need to deal with him if he's going to act like such a ninny."

He snorted hearing his uncle being called a 'ninny'. "Yeah, I'll beg Uncle Cai to take me with him."

"Well, there might be another option soon," Lisanor said as she sat back down.

His eyebrow rose as he waited for her to continue. He became increasingly intrigued by the coy smile that crossed her face.

She began giggling like a young girl before leaning forward. She whispered to him conspiratorially, "Sir Leon and I are going to be married."

Loholt's mouth fell open and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Are you serious?"

She nodded hastily and soon found herself swept up in her boy's arms.

"Mum, that's wonderful!" He pulled back with a concerned look, "What does Cai think?" His uncle's overprotective nature had scared away more than one suitor in the past.

"He's given us his blessing," she told him shyly.

Loholt laughed and spun his mother around in his happiness for her. "That's amazing!" He said breathlessly after finally setting her back down, "but what does this mean for me?"

"That is something Leon would like to discuss with you personally. I know you haven't actually met him yet, but he is a very good man."

"Actually I sort of did and I can see why Uncle Cai approves of him."

"Oh when was this?"

He shook his head, not wanting to relive the near incident with Bedivere in the stables, "While I was tending to the horses. So when does he want to see me?"

"Whenever you have time."

"Maybe I'll go find him while I can then. I don't know what Uncle Bedivere has planned for later, so the sooner, the better."

(*~*~*~*)

_Caerleon_

The salty breeze was cool and inviting as it wafted through the open window. He lounged along the thick protruding sill of the exterior wall facing outward to the bay. Never in his life, or in the half-death he experienced, had he ever imagined such a magnificent sight. Gulls squawked around the castle towers. He watched as the puffins darted and the egrets soared. It was all very harmonious.

Lancelot thought about Queen Annis, his long lost mother, and new found friend. He recalled the woman who raised him with fondness, but as he learned more, he could now see the truth in his birth and upbringing. In his heart however, the nanny who stole him away would always be a mother to him.

In the fading light of day he glanced over at the nearby bed and watched his son sleeping. His son...

It had been nearly a month since he was rescued, and most of what took place after Lancelot came out into the daylight was still setting in. His mother, Galahad, and all the changes over the years were daunting enough by themselves. The added strain of his experiences after he walked through the veil resounded in his mind, making sleep nearly impossible. Although he was finally beginning to relax more, and the nightmares each time he closed his eyes were now fading day by day.

He felt so at home here in the castle by the sea. The lessons being imparted to him by Annis and her staff on nobility and how to rule a kingdom were easily absorbed. Most days he and Haddy would sit together as pupils learning the ins and outs of it all. At least until the boy started getting restless... then the two would usually find themselves conspiring in a bit of mischief. The old scholar who typically tutored them would chase them outside shortly after.

He was amazed at how easy the knights and guards took to him, and he to them. Many times, especially by those who knew Caerleon personally, he was told how alike they were in their mannerisms. It gave him a measure of solace to hear that he would have made his father proud. Lancelot now only hoped that his own son would think just as highly of him.

A few of the captain's had recently begun hinting to him and to their queen, that Lancelot should take over the command of the troops. He wasn't sure if he was ready for such an advancement and spoke with his mother about it earlier that afternoon.

_"Well, why not?" She smiled and said, barely looking up from the parchments she was annotating._

_"I just don't feel I could do the kingdom justice by taking over so soon" he responded softly. There was a thought playing inside his mind and he spoke of it to her now, "I was actually considering taking leave to go to Camelot for a while."_

_"Oh?" Annis's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but a smirk played across her lips. In all honesty, she had been expecting this to come. Her son's friends and comrades were in Camelot. Although the core of King Arthur's army was smaller than her own, the Camelotians' rigid structure made them among the best in all the lands. _

_"I have a rapport with them and even you have admitted their structure and methods are great examples of how a kingdom should be run."_

_"That is true," the older woman set her quill down. "Recently some of the ship captains who have sailed to the continent returned with whispers of rumblings among the Gauls. Although war may still be far off, I want you to have the confidence you need to lead our men if it came to that. Do you feel you could achieve that more so in Camelot than here?"_

_Lancelot studied his hands, folded neatly in his lap, for a moment before replying, "I do."_

_"And what of young Galahad?"_

_"I know he misses his friends, especially Aithusa. I would like to take him with me, at least to visit for a spell." He knew how close Annis had become to her grandson, and although reluctant about separating the two, he wanted to be as much of a father as he could be to the boy. That meant dragging him along to Camelot._

_After a time Annis finally nodded, "It will be quite lonely without the two of you here. I insist that, if your schedule permits, you bring him, and yourself, back to visit at least every other month."_

_When Lancelot smiled up at her she once again saw her husband in his face, "I promise."_

_He broke the news of their departure to Haddy over dinner. Haddy was whooping with delight at seeing his 'other' family again. Preparations would begin on the morrow, and they would find themselves in Camelot within the week._


	5. Chapter 5- Down Spiral

_**Thanks to Nance for the proofreading! And IcarusLSU for the flow help!**_

_*** So I may have screwed up the whole titles thing when it came to Cai. Supposedly Geoffrey of Monmouth didn't know what he was talking about (or I don't understand it) because there aren't "Counts" in the UK or something. LOL I don't know how all that works being a silly Yank on the West Coast. So, I am taking my proofreader's word for it. :-) if You have better info for me about it that would be awesome!**_

_**Marie-Thanks so much for the review! I'm glad to hear that you (and hopefully Lindsey as well) are still enjoying this!**_

_**Thanks for all the reviews so far. The end of this chapter gets a little dark as it explores Bedivere's mindset. Drop a comment and tell me what you think!**_

* * *

"I can't believe you ate her nose."

"I did not 'eat' her nose. It was my thumb and I was just teasing her," the eldest knight exclaimed.

"I had to take her to find a mirror so she could visibly see that her nose was still on her face, no thanks to you!"

Leon roared with laughter. He wasn't sure which reaction was the best... Aithusa, who obviously who obviously never played 'steal the nose', or Merlin trying to assure her that the knight did not eat it.

"Between you and Gwaine...I swear!"

"What did I do now?" Gwaine moaned.

"Oh come on, Merlin," Arthur interjected, trying to contain his own chuckles, "You have to admit it was funny to see her tearing through the courtyard in a panic."

"Just wait until your child is born!" Merlin responded.

Percival gasped and glanced over at the king, "The queen is pregnant?" Arthur beamed and lifted his cup in response. "Clare is going to be ecstatic to hear that."

Gwaine sat up and glared at Percival, "Since when do you get off calling her 'Clare'?"

"Since I'm her husband, and she said I could!" The large man grinned triumphantly.

A resounding chorus of 'ooohs' came from the other men.

The five men sat at the table sharing a late supper, and catching up on all the events. Most of those who had returned earlier in the day were exhausted from their travels so a true homecoming feast was planned for the following evening. Tonight was a chance for the core group to relax and share tales.

"It wasn't until Vivienne arrived that she finally calmed down," Merlin stated with exasperation, bringing the topic back to his daughter.

Gwaine snickered at the warlock's discomfort, "You, my friend, really need a lesson in kids."

"Thank you for that astute observation."

"Haven't you ever been around children, Merlin?" Leon asked seriously. It was a foreign concept for the knight who had two sisters, and thus multiple nieces and nephews.

"No," he huffed bluntly, "I was always considered the odd child. In Ealdor, no one would let me near the younger children alone, or for very long because: either they could 'sense' something about me; or were worried that I'd somehow infect them with something by being a bastard child. It's not like I have any siblings either. In fact, the only child I have ever had to deal with up until Aithusa was a full grown one of the prat-ish variety."

A hard chunk of bread ricocheted off his skull and Merlin turned to glare at Arthur. "You just proved my point brilliantly, Sire."

"When my son is born, Merlin, I will make certain you are his first babysitter."

"You don't know if it's going to be a son. What would Gwen say if she heard you already deciding that it will be a boy?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably and looked away from Merlin's self-righteous stare before mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that, Arthur?" The rogue knight cupped a hand around his ear, trying to maintain a straight face. "She already kicked you out of the bedchambers for that?"

The door at the far end opened inward and the laughing men all glanced towards it. Loholt cautiously stuck his head in. "Your Majesty, My Lords?" He questioned politely as Arthur waved the boy inside. Loholt turned to Leon, "My mother said you wished to speak with me, Sir?"

"Indeed! Come on in and have a seat. Did she tell you her news?" He inquired.

Loholt nodded and glanced around nervously, slightly intimidated, at the men sharing the table. "She did, Sir. I'm happy that she is finally getting something she deserves."

"So, now that her future is decided, it is time to talk about yours," the king said with a smile.

Gwaine and Percival shared a glance, their confusion in the situation evident as they looked around at the others. The rogue offered his friend a shrug and sat back to await the conversation.

"What future is that?" he asked in a voice filled with anxiety.

"Well there are three options we have come up with, and you're old enough now to start figuring out what you want in life." Merlin said casually. He leaned back in his chair and watched the boy's reaction, "One... things can continue as they are with no changes save your mother being married, and you go on with life as usual."

"Two," Arthur picked up the thread, "Everything will stay the same for now, but when you come of age and gain your knighthood, which I expect you to do no matter which choice you make, I will acknowledge you publicly as my son. I will not do this beforehand for your safety. There are still very few who know the truth as of now, and I would not wish to endanger you because of it. Guinevere's child will still be my heir, but you would gain more privilege at that time."

Loholt chewed over the choices quietly for a few moments before realizing that the third option had not yet been offered, "And the other one?"

Leon leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table while looking at Loholt. "The other possibility is that when I marry your mother, I accept you at that time as my own son."

The boy's blue eyes were as wide as saucers, "I...uh...I..."

"You don't have to answer right away," Merlin assured him and sent Arthur a warning glance. "If you want to talk it over with your mother and your uncles, or anyone in this room, don't hesitate."

"I know you do not know me, as we have barely met, so any questions you might have, please feel free to ask," Leon offered with a warm smile. "The option I offer would probably be the most life-changing for you."

"What do you mean?"

Arthur stiffened and stated with reluctance, "It means you would give up on any claim to the Pendragon line. You would be Leon's son, not mine. He would be also be the one that would help guide your decisions concerning your training and such."

Gwaine, having experienced gossip and such about his own family for years, decided to offer his opinion on the subject, "That would also add some new saucy rumors around town and at the tavern about your mother and Leon, which may not be a good thing."

"However," Merlin stressed, "you've already dealt with worse. So, those rumors would be easy to overcome, and might add a bit to your current status."

The boy's blue eyes glance over each man individually, trying to assess their reactions and desires. Loholt felt his heart pounding. For so long everything about his life was dictated by secrecy and his overbearing uncles. Part of him wished his Uncle Cai was there to help, but he was decidedly glad Bedivere was not.

It was a heavy burden to decide his own future, and he felt slightly faint at the idea. 'What if' questions plagued his mind. What if he chose to be Leon's son? What if the king, whom he only recently began to know, was disappointed? Merlin, who understood the heartaches of not having a father: would he still stand by him if Loholt chose to remain so? What if Leon got mad if Loholt said no?

Merlin, sensing the boy's distress, suggested a change of scenery to get the boy some air.

Loholt was in a daze as he walked alongside the warlock. "What do I choose?" he whispered.

The older man shrugged, "There is no wrong choice here, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't want to be thought of as a bastard anymore, but I think the king would be upset if I said yes to Sir Leon."

Merlin scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Maybe a bit, but that's only because he's finally coming around to the idea of being a father. He'll get over it."

Loholt snorted and rolled his eyes, wondering how it was Merlin could get away with speaking of the king in such a manner. "Ok, other than being his son, what else would happen if I said 'yes' to Sir Leon?"

"Well, since your uncles have no kids, I think you would still inherit the earldom* from Cai, but there would also be the titles and such that Leon would inherit from his father." Merlin said, although he wasn't too sure, and wished George was nearby with his wealth of knowledge to help explain. "Leon would be the one to either accept or dismiss who you are squired to, help arrange a marriage... if that's what you wanted. Any issues you have would go back to him... it would almost be a harder reputation to live up to."

"Why do you say that?"

Merlin snickered, "As a bastard, even one of the king's, no one cares if you step out of line. It's almost expected. As the son of the 'great' Sir Leon, you would be required to be an example for others to follow. Anything negative from you would reflect onto him. His reputation, not only among the knights, but also with the nobles of Camelot, is highly respected and it would be a challenge to live up to."

Loholt wasn't sure if he felt more apprehensive or calmed by hearing more about the man. The way Leon dealt with Bedivere earlier made a very strong first impression on the teenager. In a corner of his mind he wanted to be that calm and assured when dealing with situations like that. "Could...I mean...would it be..."

"What?" Merlin asked as he stopped and looked at Loholt.

"My uncles would probably hate it...nevermind."

"No, ask whatever it is that's on your mind," the elder man implored.

"What if I wanted to be Sir Leon's squire? Could I do that if he was my father?"

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest, and chewed on his thumb while he thought, "You know, I have no idea. I've never been a squire, or a knight."

Loholt had to laugh at the confusion on the older man's face.

Rather suddenly, Merlin's demeanor changed, and he gazed off for a moment. "Will you excuse me? I...need to check on something." Without waiting for a response, Merlin headed off towards his rooms, and left the boy standing in the hallway.

(*~*~*~*~*)

He felt her calling to him and he knew she was close, which made him suspicious. Placing his hand on the door latch he paused, and with a glow of his eyes, he stretched out with his magic. He sighed at what he felt within the room, or more precisely, who. He glanced cautiously up and down the hallway to be certain he was alone before pushing the door open. Just inside he noticed George, as the manservant stood from the table.

"George?" Merlin questioned, his eyebrows pinching in the middle. He wondered why the servant was in his room when he was supposed to be outside of the city with Morgana. However, he didn't need to look at the other figure, hidden under a cloak, to know exactly where his wife was.

"My Lord," the servant grinned, "I shall make myself scarce." The conniving little man slipped out the door quietly.

Merlin turned to the cloaked woman, "You know you shouldn't be here."

"I know," she responded without turning around.

He sighed heavily and walked up behind her, "What if you were seen, or someone recognized you?"

She chuckled, "It's doubtful on both accounts. First, George was able to get us inside. I never realized how many hidden servant corridors there are in this place."

"And if someone in town or in the hallways did see you?" As much as he wished to have her by his side, his fear for what would happen to her if she was discovered was greater. He placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him.

As she turned, the hood of her cloak fell. Merlin took a step back. He couldn't cover his shock as golden blond waves fell around her shoulders. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes danced over her.

"Well, say something Merlin!" She demanded when he didn't speak.

"Um..." He rubbed the back of his neck, on the verge of laughter. "I really…wow…uh…" He wasn't certain if he should tell her he preferred her long, dark silken waves, or that she was just as beautiful with the golden tresses. "It's different…"

"Thank you, Lord Obvious," she blinked and scowled.

"I…uh," He tried to stifle his amusement, "what do you want me to say? You are magnificent; I just never pictured you as a blonde."

She unclasped her cloak, and placed it over the back of a chair before taking a step forward, "They say 'blondes have more fun.'"

He inhaled sharply with a devious grin, "Who says that?"

"Oh you know…'they' do…"

He met her in a deep kiss and pulled her tight against him. Merlin knew he should be arguing to get her out of the city before anyone caught her, but after weeks apart he couldn't stop the relief at seeing her. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in the flaxen mane at her neck and breathed in her earthy scent.

"Where's our daughter?" She asked softly.

"With your mother," he mumbled as he began nuzzling behind her ear. "Aithusa and I were going to ride to Gawant, and meet you tomorrow."

"I know, but I couldn't wait another day to see you," she whispered breathlessly in his ear.

He pulled back and gazed into her normally pale green eyes; they now appeared more like sparkling emeralds set off by the golden waves. Logic was telling him one thing. His heart, and body were saying a different story; especially as she chewed on her lip ardently, waiting for him to respond.

Finally he huffed out a breath, and buried his face in her hair again, "Fine, you can stay, but just for a little while."

(*~*~*~*~*)

"Mama, no mama, wake up!" The young boy cried. His father was a knight of the realm and off serving in a war somewhere. His older brother had gone for help when their mother fell ill, and his little sister was with a neighbor to keep her safe from the sickness. Even the servants of the house were scarce, fearful of the disease that ravaged through the lady of the manor's body.

Her death was as peaceful as it could have been, and she did not die alone; but in her passing her bright young son was left painfully abandoned... just days before his seventh birthday. By the time his older brother returned with someone willing to help, it was too late to save her. Her body had long since cooled, and was carried out to the temple, away from the house by one of the braver servants.

He threw back his head, letting the lukewarm ale pour down his throat as he tried desperately to drown in its intoxicating haze as a means to escape the images that kept flitting through his mind.

Their father had moved them to Camelot and the transition was difficult. No one understood the pain he felt. His sister was always shy, and after losing their mother she became even quieter. He felt she blamed him for their mother dying, as he blamed himself.

One of the few boys near Bedivere's age and status was the prince. He learned from Arthur how to throw his weight around, and for a time it gave him a sense of empowerment. It was something he could control when everything else was in chaos around him.

Despite the heartaches, his brother was still friendly, outgoing, and everyone loved him. Cai and his best friend Leon were never far apart. Occasionally Bedivere found himself feeling closer to Leon than his own brother at times. Leon would sit quietly with him when he felt withdrawn before offering words of encouragement to help Bedivere bounce back into life. When he was fifteen or sixteen, he couldn't recall exactly, he was having a bad day with the knight he was squired to and went to find the older blond boy. He was hopeful for a bit of a pep talk to keep him going…

He pounded his tankard on the table to get the barmaid's attention. He needed another drink.

He came around the corner, and his mind recoiled at the sight before him. They didn't know he was there and he left as quickly as he arrived. His brother and Leon were… even now he balked just thinking of Cai and Leon with their faces close together, whispering more like lovers than friends.

He pushed it to the back of his mind, determined to speak with their father the instant he returned to Camelot. Bedivere's moods grew darker as he waited. The knight he was squired to punished him for his inattention, and soon even the prince was reluctant to hang around him. Three weeks later they received news that their father was dead.

Bedivere looked into the bottom of the cup and debated about ordering another drink. He missed his mother, though being in his early thirties and a grown man, he would never admit it out loud to anyone. The memories he had were too painful and most of the time he was successful in blocking them from his consciousness. Even now he could only just barely recall losing his hand on that fateful night. He glanced at the stump of a wrist believing that it was his punishment for not coming clean about his brother's indiscretion.

Years passed before they returned to Camelot. He breathed a sigh of relief when Leon wasn't there to greet them. His last interaction with the blond knight was when Leon showed up in Anjou. Bedivere wasn't about to let the man find out about his sister's child. Cai who had once been so happy and easygoing was too busy brooding to deal with it himself. Part of Bedivere feared what would happen if Leon and Cai got a chance to speak. A piece of his mind twisted what he witnessed that one night as being the catalyst that caused their father's death. It was a punishment for his brother's sins.

Months later they journeyed with the king to the north and entered the cavern. He followed the king through the mystical doorway; only to meet Leon on the other side before being plunged into darkness and nightmarish visions. Each and every horror of his life was relived with intensity greater than the initial event. His mother's ghost was crying out for him to save her; his father berated him for keeping the secret and for allowing Lisanor's honor to be compromised.

"Fuck this," Bedivere grumbled to himself and slammed the wooden mug on the table. He stood and left the Rising Sun and headed straight to his quarters. He cursed the fact that Cai had left on patrol just days before the arrival of the remaining troops from the north. Logically, he knew that his brother had no clue when Bedivere would return, but it didn't stop the resentment he felt.

Bedivere gathered his personal things and went to get his horse. In some part of his mind, he knew he was losing it. His own nephew, a boy he cared for as his own, now feared him. It took Leon shaking him back to reality earlier that afternoon to realize it. The fact that it was a man who disgusted him that broke through his haze was even more of a reason to get the hell out of Camelot before he completely cracked.


	6. Chapter 6- Family

"What are we doing here, Arthur?" Merlin asked, as he followed the king down into the vaults. He was dressed for traveling and ready to depart when the king had come upon him; ordering the warlock to accompany him. With a resigned groan, Merlin had taken his staff and followed after the man as they made their way down through the castle.

"We are looking for something," the king replied with a smirk.

Merlin rolled his eyes, "That makes everything so much clearer."

Arthur dismissed the guards at the entrance of the treasure rooms, and unlocked the gates. Once inside, he looked around. It had been a while since he was here personally. "Guinevere brought it to my attention last night when I told her Morgana was in your room..." he purposely ignored the momentary panic that lit the warlock's eyes, "...that you have never given her a wedding ring!"

"And why would you think Morgana was in my room last night?" Merlin asked suspiciously.

"Because Gilli saw George trying to hide in the hallways...and if it wasn't Morgana then you and I are going to have issues about you cheating on my sister with a blond."

Merlin's face was red with embarrassment and he offered Arthur a guilty smile, "It wasn't my idea..."

"Oh please, like you would be so clever as to disguise your wife and sneak her into the city?" Arthur rolled his eyes and blew out through his pursed lips, "Trust me, I know she is the smarter one in your relationship." The king began searching through the shelves, leaving Merlin standing near the door.

"Actually, it was George," Merlin deadpanned.

Arthur spun around, "That conniving little weasel! Why couldn't he have been so clever when he was working for me?"

"Because he was too busy trying to survive?" Merlin's eyes were wide. He offered the king a cheeky, lopsided grin.

"What about this one?" Arthur pulled a ring out of a box on the shelf in front of him.

Merlin sneered in disdain at the gaudy, oversized, and rather ugly piece of jewelry. "Really?"

Arthur looked at the object again, as if seeing it for the first time, and grimaced, "You're right, it is hideous." He let the ring fall back into the box and tossed the container unceremoniously back onto the shelf. The king moved on to another, and another...

Time went by and Merlin was feeling decidedly more agitated. "I really don't need to find one right now Arthur. I would much rather get out of the city and go see my wife and...my mother."

"You are planning on being away for a couple weeks, correct?"

"Yes, we're heading to Gawant to see my mother. Then we we'll be going to Tintagel and meeting Lady Vivienne, so Morgana can get settled before I come back to Camelot."

Arthur mentally noted the hit of melancholy in Merlin's voice, although he gave no outward sign. "How will I get a hold of you if I need you though?"

Merlin snorted and blinked, "Why would you need me?"

"Well let us say if someone..."

"AH! Stop right there! Don't say another word. I don't want you to jinx it like you always do.'

"I do not always jinx things Merlin. You are paranoid!"

"Am not," the warlock pouted.

"Then quit acting like such a girl!" Arthur picked up a gold chalice and chucked it at Merlin. The other man's eyes flashed gold to deflect it, and the cup went sailing past him into the darkness beyond. It hit what they surmised to be another set of shelves with a loud crash; knocking whatever was on it, and perhaps the old wood shelves as well, to the floor. They looked at each other guiltily before bursting into laughter.

They picked their way through the debris. Arthur sighed and shook his head, looking around at the mess he created. "I suppose, I should start employing some men to clean and repair this mess."

Merlin shook his head and chuckled, "Don't look at me..."

"I wouldn't dare dream of it, Merlin...Morgana would kill me, dark spirit or not, if I allowed you to get sidetracked down in here." He paused to give his friend time to respond with a cheeky comment. When none was forthcoming he finally noticed Merlin crouched down and holding a small, plain wooden box. "To paraphrase a comment I heard recently...you have just proven my point."

The warlock rolled his eyes up towards Arthur with a scowl before showing the king what he held. "I found what we were looking for. Can I go now?"

(*~*~*~*)

"Sir Cai, we must find shelter!" One of the knights yelled.

"I know," Cai roared in order to be heard over the storm. The tempest showed no signs of letting up anytime soon as they moved further east. The small patrol of knights were much deeper into the lands of Essetir than they originally planned on going. Since the death of Cenred years before, the lands were in a constant tug of war between the surrounding kingdoms. The alliance between Camelot and Mercia kept much of the land fairly peaceful. South of them was a city that had once been the greatest Roman port of Londinium. The current king was the son of Octa, a man who was slain in battle against Uther Pendragon and the forces of Camelot. It was that very conflict that killed Cai's father.

For the time being, Camelot had little to do with them. Tidbits of information from the local populace however had Cai wondering how long the tenuous peace would actually last..

All that was pushed to the back of Cai's mind, as the small troop searched for any relief from the storm they could find. The knight paused for a moment and held up his hand. He could have sworn he heard something different admixt the constant howling of the wind. "Did you hear that?" He asked the man closest to him. The other knight shook his head, but strained to listen nonetheless.

Soon again the sound came, barely an echo of a shrill whistle that was not a natural part of the storm. Shielding his eyes against the pelting rain, Cai squinted and tried to find the source. A shadow against the gray backdrop caught his attention and it looked to be a man.

Not questioning their fortune, Cai motioned for the others to follow him and made his way towards the person. Drawing closer, Cai barked out a laugh of pure relief as he finally recognized the figure. "You, my friend, are a welcome sight!"

(*~*~*~*)

"Mam!" Aithusa giggled and ran into her mother's arms. After a quick embrace, the girl was off again, chasing butterflies through the field.

"You're late," Morgana told her husband as he rode up.

"It's Arthur's fault." Merlin nodded to George as he dismounted, and moved to kiss his wife. "I probably shouldn't tell you, but he heard there was some blonde woman in my chambers last night."

"Oh?" She raised a once-again dark colored eyebrow at him.

"Yes, and Arthur threatened if he ever found me cheating on his sister again, I would be hung. Thank you very much."

Morgana gaped at him, "Are you serious?"

The warlock chuckled and nodded, "Yes, it seems Gilli spotted George sneaking said blonde into the castle." He turned to glare slightly at the servant.

George gulped and stood more erect, while avoiding eye contact with his master.

"Did you tell him?" Morgana asked skeptically. She never thought of the possibility of endangering her husband by her charade.

"He already guessed it was you, but warned me not to let it happen again."

Morgana bit back her annoyance as she entwined her fingers with Merlin's, and led him to a cloth laid out under some nearby shade trees. He smiled at the picnic spread before him.

"I was expecting you earlier," she said as they sat down on the blanket. The couple chatted quietly. Their daughter soon joining them, proclaiming that she was starving, while George served up some lunch.

After eating, Aithusa took the opportunity to change into her true form, and was darting through the sky above them. The servant was off tending to the horses and supplies.

It was a perfect summer day without a cloud overhead. Morgana settled between her husband's legs and leaned back against him to watch the ethereal form above them. They laughed together at some of Aithusa's acrobatics. After a while Merlin took Morgana's hand and slipped something on her finger. "This is actually why I was late," he said with a soft smile. "Arthur and I were searching through the vaults this morning."

She held up her hand to see what it was. A beautiful silver ring, engraved with symbols of the stars, sat perfectly fitted on her long finger. At the top sat a rounded moonstone. She could sense the hint of magic that lay dormant in its milky blue striations. "It's beautiful," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. .

He entwined his fingers with hers, and she then noticed a similar ring, although much more masculine with etchings of the earth and sun. "There are words in the old tongue engraved inside each of them," he explained. "Yours says 'Ic cwide gelác eormengrund ond friþcandel æt béon eac þé'…"

"And yours?"

"'Ic cwide gelác móna ond rodor æt béon eac þé.'"

"I understand the words, and they sound like a spell. What do you think they mean?" She asked in slight awe and a twinkle in her eye.

Merlin shrugged, "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

(*~*~*~*~*)

The market place was beginning to wind down for the evening. As Hunith walked with Godwyn through the stalls, she heard a whimsical voice calling out over the hum of the crowd. She turned just in time to catch the young pale girl in her arms.

"Hi Nana, I missed you!"

"Oh, I missed you too, sweetheart!" The elder woman fawned over her grandchild. "I think you've grown taller since I last saw you."

Aithusa grinned and spun in a circle on her bare tip-toes, attempting to accentuate her growth.

"Where is your father?" Hunith's eyes scanned the crowded market for her son.

"Isn't that him, over there?" Godwyn asked as he watched the exchange.

Hunith followed his line of sight and startled at the man walking towards them. Taking quick steps towards him, she met her son halfway. "Merlin, what have you done now?" She questioned with an admonishing glare, as she took in his new look.

"Nice to see you, too, mother!" He laughed and embraced her.

She returned the gesture warmly. "I never would have recognized you."

"Hello Hunith," another voice said from behind her son.

Hunith looked over at the woman with a confused expression, "Hello." The lady standing nearby looked familiar, but Hunith couldn't place her face. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

"We met once, years ago, when I came to Ealdor with Merlin, Arthur, and Gwen to help your village."

Hunith's hands flew to her mouth as the pieces clicked, "Morgana! Oh, it is good to see you again." She opened her arms and offered the younger woman a hug.

"Lady Morgana, it has been quite a while since I have seen you, child," Lord Godwyn said as he came up to the group. "Last I heard, you were exiled from Camelot."

Morgana curtsied respectfully, "I am, My Lord. If you wish to enact the same rules, I ask only that you allow me a chance to leave peacefully." It was a possibility she and Merlin had discussed on their way into the town, but Morgana was hopeful that she would not be turned away.

"What reason do you have to be seen so close to your brother's borders?" His voice was careful and measured, showing no hint of malice or warmth.

"I am only accompanying my husband, My Lord."

Neither Godwyn, nor Hunith, missed how Merlin took a small protective step closer to her. Hunith raised her eyebrow quizzically at her son. Merlin looked away guiltily and rubbed the back of his neck, which caused his mother to smirk knowingly.

"Is it true that during your campaigns to take over Camelot, you were under the magical influence of your sister?"

Morgana nodded, her eyes downcast.

Godwyn appeared satisfied, and he smiled. "Well, then I suppose I need to welcome you both to Gawant."

(*~*~*~*~*)

Cai pulled off his rain soaked boots and sat them close to one of the small campfires inside the cave. He glanced over at Bran, who was lounging against the wall of the cavern. "I thought you were with the others returning to Camelot?"

Bran shrugged, "We parted ways just after Lothian. I wanted to get the cauldron home, but the bridge had been wiped out by the storm. The others should have made it to Camelot by now, pity you aren't there."

Cai stopped in the process of pulling off his drenched socks and raised his eyes to meet Bran's. "Why do you say that?"

"Because your baby brother has been acting like a ripe little ass since you left."

The knight muttered a curse under his breath. "Lovely. That's all I need right now... for him to fall into one of his moods."

"He does this often?"

Cai sighed and shook his head,"No, every few years something will happen to set him off. He usually pulls out of it after a few weeks, but gods help anyone in his path during that time."

"Why, what happened last time?"

The younger man stared at the ground, and Bran began to think he wasn't going to answer. "A new family moved into the town and they had five boys who started to harrass Bedivere about his hand, and about Lisanor and Loholt. They started a rumor around town...how Loholt was probably his kid because no woman in her right mind would have a 'cripple' like him. Next thing I knew, I was pulling him out of the stables as it began to burn.

"Things had started to become more physical and the boys decided to ambush him in the barn. A torch was knocked over or something. Surprisingly, all five of the other boys survived, though not without some scars of their own."

"What happened after that?"

"They left town. Thankfully they were peasants. It was the only time I've really had to hold my family's privilege over someone's head. It took nearly a month before Bedivere started coming back to himself, but we had to watch him carefully during that time."

Bran chewed on the information for a while. "After we went through the gateway we were caught in a cavern that...for the others at least... brought on nightmares, and ghosts. We had to knock him, and Percival, unconscious to make it cease. Percival was saying how, even after we escaped from there, he was still reliving some of those personal demons."

"Damn, wish I would have known that. Hopefully, I can get back to Camelot before he does anything massively stupid because of it. If it wasn't for this dastardly storm," Cai gestured towards the entrance of the cave, "I'd be on my way back by now."

The green-hued warrior pulled out the map from Grettir. "This squall isn't natural, as I'm certain you have guessed. I'm thankful to have run across you all. I could use your help to figure it out, and hopefully make it stop."

Nodding, Cai began looking over the map of the tunnels they were in. "Of course."

(*~*~*~*)

**_AN: Happy _**_late_**_ Canada Day and 4th of July! _**

**_Sorry the updates are coming slower. A few reasons behind it 1) Muse decided to take a holiday over the 4th, 2) lots of work with a few concerts and getting ready for the next melodrama show opening on Thursday. 3) actually having a beta/editor...*cough* trained proofreading puffin to illustrate how bad at punctuation I am. LOL (THANK YOU NANCE!) 4) had to revise a whole area of the plot because it wasn't flowing the way I had hoped._**

**_Hopefully, after this next weekend, I can get back into this more!_**

**_Thank you so much for the reviews! I can't truly express how much each one means to me!_**

**_**_****_Ic cwide gelác eormengrund ond friþcandel æt béon eac þé_**

**_I will move earth and sun to be with thee_**

**_Ic cwide gelác móna ond rodor æt béon eac þé_**

**_I will move moon and stars to be with thee_**

**_(May not be grammatically correct for Old English - trying to get in touch with someone to proof that bit for me.)_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Has anyone guessed the name of the new antagonist yet? (probably not, since I haven't given many clues. However, there are a couple in this chapter...as well as the current cover art._

_Helen, Megami, Icarus, and Nance: Thank you for the reviews! _

_Special thanks to Icarus for flow reading, Helen for the tidbits on many things British, and Nance for all the punctuation edits!_

* * *

The sorcerer studied the bronze piece before him. Its curved shape indicating that it was once part of a larger bowl, or perhaps even a cauldron. All of his careful research, the threats and underhanded dealings...it all led to this cave, in search of a piece that was the key to his future.

For years Alvarr, like many others in the shadowy world of thieves and outlaws, had heard the rumors of the great treasure. It wasn't until his recent dreams, where the cloaked man with the seven-tine antlers of a stag appeared to him, that he even considered such a thing as being real. With an ironic twist, thanks, in part, to the King of Camelot, the sorcerer finally discovered the path that would lead him to the riches he coveted.

The great city of Camelot had been ruled by sorcerers in the past, and although Alvarr initially never wanted the throne for himself, as the dreams continued he found his desires growing. The news that began to spread about the Arthur's long lost cousin finally lit the way. He discovered through a few old stories that when Ambrosius had returned to Camelot, decades before, he gifted his bastard son with the piece Alvarr sought.

It was the key to the tomb he had sent Tristan to locate.

The outlaw stuffed the bronze piece he had been studying into his pack. It was the only thing of value left, among all the odds and ends leftover in the cave, that had once been home to Balinor. Unfortunately, it was not the key piece he wanted. At least, he thought, it served to confirm that what he sought had been in the late dragonlord's possessions at one time.

Alvarr doubted that Merlin, the current heir to the throne had such a treasure; for surely Alvarr would have heard about it. The sorcerer knew though, that even if it was being kept secretly, the warlock wouldn't give up such a treasure without the proper amount of leverage.

Smiling coldly to himself, Alvarr had an inclination about where he might either find the key...or at the very least, obtain a perfect bargaining chip to deal with the man who was rumored to be so powerful.

(*~*~*~*~*)

"So, you are now married, hmm," Merlin commented, as he sat with his mother in the quiet comfort of her personal chambers.

"As are you, it seems, my son," Hunith chuckled softly.

"Are you happy?" He asked quietly.

"I am. He is a good husband...More than I could have hoped for. I have certainly grown to love him more than I thought I would."

He grinned at his mother. "Do you miss Ealdor?" Merlin questioned, knowing how difficult the transition from peasant to noble was for him. He expected his mother may have gone through similar issues.

Hunith nodded, "I do, more than I expected some days, but I wouldn't trade the comforts and family I have gained. Elena is due to have her first child within the next month. As I never had a daughter, nor she a mother, we have become quite close. I have to admit I am quite excited about becoming a grandmother again."

Merlin sat back and smiled; although initially a bit miffed that she had not informed him of her choice to marry, he understood her reasoning. Hunith knew her son would worry about her, and might have delayed his journey north to attend the wedding. She assured him it was a very humble affair and if he had been invited, it would have turned into something much more elaborate due to Merlin's station. "Speaking of children, Arthur and Gwen are going to be parents around, or just after, Midwinter."

Hunith giggled in delight, "Oh how wonderful for them! You must pass on my congratulations."

"I will."

"And what of you and Morgana?" She asked with a teasing smirk. Her face fell when she noticed the way her son looked away.

"I don't think children, other than Aithusa, are in the stars for us," he explained quietly, not wishing to delve into details.

Reading her son's desires in his features, she let it be and they moved on to talking about Aithusa. He told her the stories of her adventures up in Snowdonia. She and Haddy made quite the pair of ruffians with their bickering. He also told her of his daughter's insight and heroism that helped the king, and them all, in the end by carrying the cauldron to the keep. Merlin surprised himself by opening up to his mother about his experiences in the otherworld.

Hunith sat silently listening. Although she admitted out loud, that she was sad to hear that he hadn't met Balinor on the other side.

"Now that I think about it, I'm wondering about that, as well," he admitted.

"I'm sure there is a reason for it," she offered to him with a comforting squeeze of her hand. With her free hand, she fiddled with a torc around her neck.

Merlin's eyebrows rose and he smirked, "Is that a gift from Lord Godwyn?"

"No. It was from your father actually," she started, recalling the day Balinor had given her the piece. It was the day he had asked for her to marry him. She pushed away the sad thoughts, and said mournfully, "but there was nothing to wear it with in Ealdor...it just didn't match my apron."

(*~*~*~*~*)

Sand and rain whipped through the air, pelting everything in it's path. The sky, what they could see of it, was a rolling dark mass of clouds; although they rarely chanced a glance upward to see the ominous formations. Leaning into the wind, tethered together in a line with a rope, they moved forward following Bran. To make matters worse, they were occasionally being assaulted by random hail. Some were the size of a man's fist.

To Cai, it felt as if the weather itself was alive, and the howling wind sounded like a beast in agony. He trusted Bran. He had to, or he was certain they would all soon find themselves lost to the tempest. The rope in front of him offered some slack, and the dark haired knight chanced looking up through the cloth covering both his face and the chainmail coif on his head. A wall of inclement weather obstructed any sign of the man in front of him, though he could see the rope guiding him disappear into the gray mass. Continuing on a few feet, Cai nearly toppled over when he realized why there was less tension.

They had hit the eye of the storm.

He gasped in short-lived relief as he regained his balance. The sound still echoed loudly around where he and Bran now stood. They were soon joined by the others in the party, each one of them experiencing a similar reaction.

Before them stood the stones of the dolmen. Cai realized they were on the side opposite from the entrance of the tomb. Although he couldn't see the doorway itself, it was clearly visible that the storm was emanating from within the sacred burial site.

"We should rest for the moment while we figure out our next move," Bran suggested to the group authoritatively.

The other three knights looked to Cai, who nodded in agreement. Technically, the Earl of Anjou was the newest member of the group of knights he led, but his skills in managing his own estate for years, his title, and his close friendship to the king in the past months, had elevated him to a position of Captain among the elite warriors. At first they were hesitant, especially considering his previous altercation during a patrol, but they soon grew to trust his judgement and leadership. Recently, he overheard one of them comment to another, that he was no longer the dark, brooding presence he had initially been. Cai had secretly smirked at the comment, but offered the others no explanation.

The men untied themselves from the guide rope, and sat down to rest for a bit; discussing their options.

"With that storm coming from the door, we obviously can't go straight in," Cai sighed with finality. "But there doesn't seem to be any other way."

Bran's eyes were held solidly on the stone architrave, as he sat in thought. "When I was a boy," he started softly, "Father took Branwen and me to the continent. I cannot recall where exactly, but we found a tomb...very similar to this one, albeit smaller. The doorway was sealed, but we were playing on the stones above, and a piece broke inward. Branwen sprained her ankle, as she fell through."

Cai nodded thoughtfully, unused to hearing the ancient prince speak of his life, "So, what you are saying, is there may be a way in...from above the chamber?" Bran nodded his affirmation. Without being asked, Cai stood up, and began looking over the area to find a loose, or at least manageably sized, ceiling stone they could try to move.

Bran, and the others, soon joined him in his search. They avoided the main column of the maelstrom spewing from the front. One of the knights called out, having located a place near the wall of the storm, in a straight line back from the entrance and the marker stones. Halfway hidden at the edge, the strong winds had swept away centuries of dirt and rocks over one of the stone ceiling pieces, exposing it to the elements.

After a bit more clearing, the men uncovered the edges. They soon realized they did not possess the tools to move the large slab with them. Cai bit his lip, studying the stones, barely hearing the others as they began bickering about how they were to break through the ceiling. Over the past months, when he traveled with Merlin, the knight had slowly been picking up bits and pieces of the ramblings the warlock would rattle off. Amidst it all were a few spells.

He shrugged to himself. If anything, it couldn't hurt to at least try, he thought. "Áwecgan," He whispered. Cai's hand was positioned over the edge of the stone. At first nothing happened, so he tried again; recalling the lessons of the Old Religion from his mother when he was a child.

_"Close your eyes, dear child," she crooned to him sweetly; her honey colored locks framing her face. A comforting hand was placed on his shoulder as she laid butterfly kisses on his mop of dark hair. "You may have your father's looks, but I know you have my gifts..."_

_Magic was punishable by death in the kingdom, but it didn't stop her from teaching him a few small tricks here and there. "Take a deep breath and connect to the warmth inside you. Don't force it out, allow it to flow, as easy as you breathe."_

"Áwecgan," He said again and felt the magic escape with the word. The stone shifted and he was so utterly shocked by the movement, he lost the connection, and watched it fall back into place. "Bring your swords!" He called to the others, a wide grin across his face. The castle blacksmith was going to be seriously upset with him when they returned to Camelot, but in the absence of any other items to use as leverage, the hardened steel blades would have to do.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Arthur walked slowly among the men on the training field. Leon followed his king, just a step behind, and Gilli a pace after the knight. The king took his time inspecting each one of the proud warriors. Yet, something was off. He knew from Leon who was out on patrol and who had been granted days off. Finally, Arthur turned, "Where is Sir Bedivere?"

Leon's eyes scanned the gathered men before he responded, "I don't know, Sire. I haven't seen him. Not since they returned."

"And Loholt?"

The knight tipped his head towards the squires and pages waiting near the edge of the field, "With the others, Sire."

The king bit back a sigh. He had bestowed the knighthood on Bedivere, partly as an old friend, and also, as a favor to Cai. The one-handed man performed admirably up in the north, for which Arthur was extremely thankful, but there was always the underlying tension in the man that spoke of his unpredictability. Other than a brief glimpse of the man, the king had not seen him since the day they returned; but from Percival's account, the journey back had not been pleasant with Bedivere.

One last look at the assembled knights and Arthur nodded his head to Leon. The Knight Commander dismissed the others with a word. "By your leave, Sire, I'll go ask the boy about it."

"Of course," Arthur responded, grateful once again to have Leon's steady presence back at his side. Percival and Hector had taken over the duties well enough, but they were rubbish at intuitively understanding the king's wishes when it came to the knights. Perhaps if Arthur had spent more time working with Percival...the king pushed the thoughts away. He hadn't been on his game the past year with all that occurred. "Gilli, go grab a sword and shield."

"I'm quite possibly going to get hurt, aren't I?" The younger man piped up, noting a gleam in the king's eyes, which usually signaled a desire to prove himself against some unknown thought process.

The cocky grin from the monarch had Leon chuckling, as he left the two men to their own training.

"Loholt," the knight called out as he approached the boy, "where is Sir Bedivere today?"

The blond boy studied the ground, his feet shuffling nervously. "I..uh..."

"Speak up, boy," Leon encouraged.

"I haven't seen him since evening before last, in the stables with you, Sir." He was anxious about speaking with Leon since the conversation the night before last. Loholt still hadn't made his decision, and in truth, wanted to wait for Cai to return before he did. He noticed Leon waiting for him to elaborate. "After speaking with Lord Emyrs, I went to finish my chores. When I got back to the room, his things were gone. I checked the stables and his horse was missing, as well."

The knight pursed his lips. "And you didn't see Bedivere at all yesterday?" He wondered briefly if it had been his interference in the stables that caused Bedivere to run. Leon knew too much had happened over the years for their friendship to resume, as it had been before. He hoped in time he might have been able to break through the toughened shell and find, once again, the man he had thought of as a brother underneath. "Next time, I expect you to inform me, immediately, of something like this. Is that clear?"

Loholt nodded and released the breath he was holding; when he realized he was not going to be harshly punished for not informing the Knight Commander. Although worried about his uncle, he knew he wasn't in a position to try and follow the man. "Lady Lisanor said: I shouldn't worry myself. Sir Cai would sort it out when he returns from patrol," he added, carefully wording his response. There were still other knights and their squires nearby who weren't aware of his relations. For Loholt, it was one more mark towards his decision...the possibility of being able to refer to his mother as such. "I'm sorry, Sir. I promise to do better..."

Leon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "Enough of that. Bedivere has his own demons he must battle, it seems. Until he or Cai returns, you will act as my page." He motioned to his training gear, indicating that Loholt should take charge of it. "I know you have been called their squire, but there is much more to learn than just running errands, doing chores, and donning armor. For me, the position of squire must be earned. You turn fourteen soon, correct?"

The boy tried to hide his growing smile at the chance the knight was giving him, "Yes, Sir. In less than two weeks."

"Good. At that time, we'll assess your progress and decide where to go from there." Leon began pulling off his gloves, "Gather my equipment, and then meet me in the armory."

He turned and walked away from the teenager, before he allowed himself to grin. He was mildly distressed to hear that Bedivere had gone, but rather thankful that he would have a chance to get to know the boy; without the fear of his Uncle Bedivere's wrath hanging over his head, or Cai's naturally protective nature. He would meet Loholt in the armory, but first he needed to inform Arthur of the missing knight...and the boy's new temporary position.

(*~*~*~*~*)

* * *

_Next couple of chapters I should be able to start delving more into the myths and offer some of the interesting footnotes and poems again :)_

_Please leave a comment if you would be so kind!_

* * *

_As an extra thank you to Nance, my beautiful 'proofreader puffin,' for her wonderful work with my horrid punctuation skills:_

_Original Norwegian Pickled Herring._

_Ingredients:_

_6 sild fillets_

_3.4 ounces vinegar_

_1-2 tablespoons sugar or to taste_

_6-3/4 ounces water_

_1-1/2 teaspoon whole black pepper_

_1 medium size sweet onion sliced thin_

_1 medium size red onion sliced thin_

_4 bay leaves_

_1 small sprig fresh dill (diced)(optional)_

_Preparation:_

_Place sild fillets in cold water for 30-60 minutes until excess salt is removed. Drain water and dry with paper towels._

_Cut fillets at an angle into 3/4 " pieces._

_Mix vinegar, sugar and water in a pan and bring to a boil. Chill marinate completely._

_Place sliced fillets, onion, bay leaves, dill and whole black pepper in layers into a sanitized glass jar._

_Fill jar with marinate to cover fillets and all ingredients. Cover with lid. Place in fridge for 24 hours before serving._

_If you find that the marinate is too tart, add sugar._

_Keep refrigerated._


	8. Chapter 8- Prophecies

**_Thank you for the reviews and favorites! Welcome to the new followers. My bad punctuation has been remedied by Nance, and plot ideas have been bounced off the head of IcarusLSU (a few of them rather enthusiastically)._**

**_And here's where I start bringing in more of a fantasy aspect to this story..._**

_**The Song of Amergin**_

_(not mine, borrowed for my twisted inspiration from a translation of an ancient Celtic poem.)_

_I am a stag of seven tines,  
__I am a wide flood on a plain,  
__I am a wind on the deep waters,  
__I am a shining tear of the sun,  
__I am a hawk on a cliff,  
__I am fair among flowers,  
__I am a god who sets the head afire with smoke.  
__I am a battle waging spear,  
__I am a salmon in the pool,  
__I am a hill of poetry,  
__I am a ruthless boar,  
__I am a threatening noise of the sea,  
__I am a wave of the sea,  
__Who but I knows the secrets of the unhewn dolmen ?_

* * *

Bran dropped down into the ancient tomb first. The reverberation of the storm's source echoing louder within the stone room than without. Cai threw a torch down to him and Bran held it up to survey the area. The first thing he realized was the depth of the tomb. He didn't recall his previous experience being so large. The place he landed would have been the actual burial site, but this appeared more like an antechamber to the main one...which he surmised was behind the large carved stone door to his left.

This same door seemed to be missing a stone from the center, from which the maelstrom was spewing. By some miracle, he stood in a protected alcove. On the ground near a knee wall, just under the visible air currents, he could make out the shadow of what he hoped was the missing stone. Cai dropped down next to him, as the torch flickered and spat, trying to maintain its light against the nearby vortex.

Handing the flame off, Bran pointed toward the shadow, before lying on his stomach and crawling cautiously towards it. He kept himself as low as possible.

Another man joined them in the stone room. Cai held the torch out to him before joining Bran on the ground.

The ancient prince was fighting to maintain his heading, as he approached the area where the winds grew stronger. He started sliding sideways, as the force began pressing against him. He felt something on his feet and glanced back to see Bran grabbing his ankles as an anchor. Bran stretched and strained until his fingers finally brushed the stone. He willed his arm to go a little further. His loose hair whipped into his eyes, stinging his face. A hair's breadth away and he grunted against the strain...finally grasping the keystone.

He nearly lost his grip when a hand, bloodied and caked with dirt, landed on his. Bran glanced up through his hair and saw the extended arm disappear behind the knee wall. The hand was weak though, and Bran pulled out of it's grip easily enough.

With Cai's help he managed to get both himself and the stone back to the relative safety of the wall. Once he caught his breath, he carefully moved to the wall near the hole. Linking his elbow with Cai's, and then Cai, in turn, linked to the man next to him; Bran cautiously sidled along the stone wall until he was able to reach the hole.

Instantly, the wailing tempest halted. The silence that followed was almost surreal.

The men looked at each other before laughing in relief. A soft groan broke through the triumph they felt. Bran and Cai quickly moved around the short wall and found a man, whose hand had grabbed Bran's earlier, near death on the other side.

"Anything you can do, Cai?" Bran asked, inferring that the knight should use his magic. If they were to find out what had happened, they needed this man to live.

Cai shrugged, as he knelt down, "I'll give it a try."

(*~*~*)

_"We should head to Camelot, and take him with us."_

_"I agree, but do you think he'll make it?"_

_"I'm no physician. I will do what I can to keep him stable but...we need to move soon."_

The serpent overheard, and understood, the words of the humans. His master was still trapped in the tomb. It was time to move things along, and the odd-looking snake knew it couldn't do it from here. The name of Camelot struck a chord...So, as the humans bedded down for the night, their plans to leave in the morning settled, he silently found his way into one of the packs and coiled up in a protected spot to wait.

(*~*~*~*~*)

The summer sun warmed the leaves, while the slight breeze caused them to dance gently upon unseen waves of air currents. Birds sang sharp and clear, although most were hidden among the higher branches of the trees. Eyes so dark, they were nearly black; took in every minute detail. He stretched out with an ungloved hand and allowed it to caress the passing greenery. The heartbeat, breathing, and hoof beats of the horse underneath him gave rhythm to the song of life the forest was singing.

Through the ferns he caught sight of a fawn; the dappled coat already fading into the rich warm browns of the adult fur. The young deer stood frozen as the riders passed by. No one but Lancelot was the wiser about it. He smiled and breathed in the scents of the trees, the moss, the earth...the amazement of it all. It was astounding to him how everything seemed so much more than it had before. He wondered how he had never noticed before. The years of darkness after his sacrifice for the kingdom left him with a new appreciation of the life around him now.

Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the young boy on the pony following him. Galahad was currently chatting up one of the other knights of Caerleon about some nonsense that only a six year old boy could imagine. Lancelot thought briefly about the gypsy girl who, years before, had tricked him into marriage. He was quite thankful that his death had nullified the arrangement, but a part of his heart ached for the time lost with a boy he didn't know even existed from that union.

He recalled being so overwhelmed by the first breath of fresh air, and the feeling of the sun on his skin, when he exited the cave with the others.

_"Your debt has been paid, Sir Lancelot," he heard the Cailleach's voice echo in his mind. He cast a glance behind him and saw the shadowy gray form of the gatekeeper. "Do not squander the gift before you."_

He knew, even then, that no one else could see her. Other than perhaps Merlin, but the warlock was too focused on saving the king to notice. Lancelot could not imagine his day could be any better, although a part of him balked against the selfish thought as Arthur lay near death. The introduction of his son soon proved that musing wrong.

He was appalled when he found out how the young child, his son, had been treated. Yet, he was more than grateful to his friends for taking Galahad away from the gypsy family. It never crossed his mind to go try and find her again. What happened between them was in the past, he had his son now at his side and a mother. He found a family when he thought he had none. He was now more than the knight he had always dreamed of becoming. The noble man marveled at how his fate had turned.

There was only one regret he had...and it wasn't so much remorse as a simple bit of heartache over a lost opportunity. He would never deny Gwen the happiness she obviously felt for Arthur, but he had to ponder if such an occasion for love would ever again present itself to him. Lancelot had to wonder at his wisdom of heading to Camelot. It seemed like such a sound idea at the time...now, however, as they reached the halfway point, he began to have some doubts.

In Snowdonia, he saw her again. He was surprised that he almost didn't recognize her. After so many years apart, she was no longer the sweet, innocent maid; stumbling over her words. The others had witnessed her change first hand, over time, but for Lancelot it came as a bit of shock to see her suddenly as an elegant queen. She was well-spoken and carried herself regally.

_His_ Gwen, the one who helped him so long ago by crafting a knight's tunic, had grown up, and now stood beside her true love and king. The kind spirit still resided inside of her, but she was no longer, nor had she been for many years...his.

He shook his head to rid himself of the musings as the small group of riders came to a stop at a crossroads. They broke formation to allow the horses a rest. "Galahad," Lancelot called out to his son, "Don't wander too far off."

In a typical boyish style, Haddy agreed...and then proceeded to sneak off into the forest. Lancelot chuckled and watched his boy go. He led his horse and Galahad's pony over to a nearby stream. Holding the reins to both in one hand, he ran his other along the petals of a yellow iris flower, growing from a thick clump of rhizomes along the water's edge. He pulled out his knife and cut the stem low to the ground, marveling at the color...

A frightening yell cut through the peace and Lancelot was suddenly on alert. Dropping the leather leads, he bolted in the direction of the distressed cry...the same way Haddy had gone.

The knight sheathed his knife and drew his sword, the flower forgotten by the stream's bank, as he raced through the forest. The others in the party were on his heels, only slowing slightly as they realized the forest floor, so close to the stream, was more marsh than solid ground.

Lancelot's eyes were wide when he heard other voices yelling ahead of them. The twangs of crossbows being fired sped him onwards as he called out for his son. "Galahad!" Again and again he called the boy's name. Finally, Lancelot heard a response.

"Dadaí!"

He came upon a small clearing to see horses and men standing around the body of a creature Lancelot had never before seen. With them was a woman, her once rich clothes now bedecked with mud and algae from the marsh, as she held Galahad on her hip and reached for one of her men to assist her to more stable ground.

"Galahad!" He called to his son again. The boy squirmed from the woman's arms and rush towards him. Lancelot swept the boy up and gave him a thorough inspection. He could see some swelling on one of Haddy's thin arms and reddened marks that appeared to be almost like rope burns. "What happened?"

"It came out of the water...I tried to climb the tree to get away...but it grabbed me...and tried to pull me back into the water...then the lady shot it and came to get me..." Haddy sobbed, "She had to save me..."

Lancelot had to laugh at the way the boy seemed more embarrassed to be saved by a girl, than to be nearly taken by the unusual creature. Aside from the marks, he was thankful that his son appeared to be perfectly fine.

"I take it he belongs to you, good sir?" The woman said, leaving her men and Lancelot's to view the monstrous-looking humanoid that resembled a pincushion with a number of bolts sticking from it.

"He does, My Lady." Lancelot took his time in discreetly appraising the woman. Even with the dirt she was beautiful. Strands of dark chestnut hair escaped from her sculpted styling meant to keep her liquid brown eyes unobstructed. An appreciative smile filled his face, "I must find some way to thank you and your men for rescuing him."

"Let us get out of this swamp and then we can discuss it more," She said, offering him a coy smile.

He offered her a hand to steady herself with before turning back to the men from Caerleon, "Bring the creature with us. I'm sure Gaius and Merlin would love to see it."

"You are going to Camelot?"

Lancelot nodded, finding himself hypnotized by her voice. "We are. And you, My Lady, what brings such a stately young maiden out into the forest?" he asked, just to hear her speak again.

"These are the borders of Nemeth's lands with Camelot and Caerleon...and some of the best hunting to be found in the realm." A blush crept up into her cheeks under his gaze.

"Forgive me, I thought that these lands were still part of Camelot?"

"No, King Arthur gave us this territory years ago as a sign of peace between Camelot and Nemeth. I see you wear the colors of Caerleon."

It was Lancelot's turn to blush. He was still getting used to the idea of his nobility, "Queen Annis is my mother."

The beauty paused and looked at him with wide eyes, "You are Prince Lancelot!"

"I am, and this is my son Galahad." Haddy, still in mild shock from his close brush with the creature, gave a lopsided smile.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you both."

They reached the crossroads where the horses were, before Lancelot released hold of his son and sat him on the ground. Moving to his saddlebags, Lancelot pulled out a cloth and poured fresh water on it from a skin; handing it to the lady, so she might wipe away some of the mud.

"Is your mother accompanying you on your journey to Camelot as well, young Galahad?" Her smile was pleasant, but her voice lacked the hint of warmth it held before.

The boy snorted and shook his head, "No, she's long gone."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, I lost my mother when I was young as well..."

"He doesn't mean that she passed, My Lady," Lancelot stated. He was caught between wanting to offer his condolences to the maiden and chuckling at Haddy's peculiar phrasing. "I am sorry for your loss, but what my son means is that...Well, I was away for a good number of years and she moved on with her life. My marriage to her was not condoned by her people, and they saw my absence as a way to annul the union."

"Oh, I see," She said, with slightly more enthusiasm than she meant to put in her voice. Her eyes met Lancelot's and she smiled.

The smile he returned made her heart flutter. He leaned over and scooped up the lily he had cut earlier, holding it out to her, "Forgive me, I have not even asked the name of my son's saviour."

She accepted the proffered flower, "I am Princess Mithian of Nemeth."

(*~*~*~*~*)

Anhora watched his charges with pride. The prophecy of the Once and Future King had come upon the land. Magic was returning to Albion. For the first time in nearly four hundred years, a unicorn foal was being birthed.

His blood went cold, as the new foal emerged from the afterbirth; its coat, a far cry from the shining white of its parents.

Since taking charge of the unicorns centuries ago, Anhora had never witnessed such a sight. The newborn colt struggled to stand on wobbly legs. His horn, barely a rounded nub on his infantile head, was a pearly white, as it should be...but the young stallion's coat was black as midnight.

The guardian turned away from the unicorns, and set off through the forest. The druids needed to be informed of this. There was only one prophecy, more ancient than Anhora himself, that was foretold by the birth of a black unicorn. A god-like figure of the Old Religion, primal and wild in nature, that pre-dated even the Triple Goddess: Cernunnos, Lord of Beasts, was rising.

* * *

_**Also: A song (once again by Omnia) that sparked the inspiration for this plot. /watch?v=-arCEGYLL80**_

_**AN: Did you know...there are no classical mythological accounts of unicorns? A few references to their strength and such biblically, but other than that, they were assumed by the Greeks to be real creatures? It wasn't until the Medieval Renaissance period that they really came about as a fantasy style creature. Although there is very little description of them prior to that, it was simply assumed everyone knew what you're talking about when you said 'unicorn'.**_

_**Cernunnos: there is next to nothing written about him in ancient texts. Nearly all information of him is modern speculation. There have been depictions of him found in various parts of the world, and all have an uncanny resemblance. It is thought that knowledge of him was only passed on verbally through the Druids. (which leaves me wide open to craft him how I see fit muwhahahaha)**_


	9. Chapter 9- vision

**_AN: Hello all you lovely readers! This is a REALLY short chapter for you (I sorta feel ashamed even posting something this brief) HOWEVER! I have nearly 7k already written after this... the thing is, I'm going through a few re-writes on it to make sure I get it the way I want. I'm not sure when it will be worthy to post yet, and I may split it into a few chapters. So please bear with me as I craft this story into what I hope will be the best piece to date._**

**_Thanks again to Nance for editing and to IcarusLSU for being there as I ramble and rant about the inaccuracy of the geography of Camelot._**

* * *

Her breath caught in her throat as she stood on the plateau facing the sea. The waves crashed against the rocks below. She remembered being young and standing in this very spot; watching the ships gliding past on their way to or from Caerleon.

_"Papa, can we go to Caerleon and sail on a ship?"_ She would ask her father, on the rare occasion that he was home.

He would glance down at her with a patronizing smile, and explain how most of Cornwall was now under the rule of Camelot since the death of King Mark, and thus, at war with Caerleon.

_"__Someday when we're not, I want to go on one of their ships!"_ She would declare, to which Gorlois would let out with a mighty guffaw.

_ "If that day ever comes, my little fairy, I will join you…" _

Now, however, it would never happen. Although peace had been achieved; her father had long since passed. He would not be with her if she ever did get a chance to sail.

Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A smooth deep voice whispered in her ear, "Where are your thoughts, my love?"

"Across the sea…and with my father," she responded softly, leaning back against her husband. This was the first time Morgana had been home to Tintagel for over two decades. "We were supposed to go to sea together if there was ever a peace between the kingdoms."

"I'm sure he would be proud of you. You are the one who helped accomplish that peace."

She scoffed, "Not in a way I would have chosen." She had been still under her sister's control, and had Agravaine at her beck and call at the time. Morgana recalled being snapped out of her psychosis briefly when Annis confronted her with words that were truer than anyone could have imagined…

_"…it consumes you, like a disease…" _

A cold tendril of fear began to seep into her body. She knew enough, now, to recognize it as an oncoming vision. For years, she had fought them tooth and nail, believing they were evil. Finally, meeting Vivienne and learning from her the esoteric ways of the Old Religion, Morgana had begun to harness their messages. The less she fought against them, the more she was able to see, and the less painful it became.

Morgana stepped back away from the edge. She was vaguely aware of Merlin's concerned touch, as she lowered herself to the rocks, before she allowed the images to begin to flow through her.

Merlin sat beside her and watched her face. Her pale green eyes, a color that nearly matched some of the water below, stared blankly ahead. He wished he could take the visions away from her, and give her peace from them.

He spotted the pale girl skipping over the stones towards them and sent her a silent glance, warning her of Morgana's state.

Aithusa noticed and slowed her approach until she was tip-toeing on the rocks just before them. Merlin smiled his appreciation of her understanding. He turned back to his wife and held her hand, while silent tears began to fall from her eyes.

After a few moments, Morgana began to blink. Coming back to herself, she looked up at Merlin, lines of sorrow etching her face, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry…"

"Morgana? What is it?" Merlin asked nervously.

"It's Hunith," her voice whispered. "I saw her being attacked…"


	10. Chapter 10- Relations

_**AN: As promised this is a LONG chapter for me. Almost 6k words. A lot of movement in this chapter. Some of it sideways LOL Consider this the calm before the storm...**_

_***Lyrics from: TRISTRAM & ISEULT, A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS by J. COMYNS CARR (1906) Are used without permission and are not mine... just like Gwaine (and Merlin)**_

_**Monkeymail: So jealous of the skiing!**_

_**Megami: getting into a whole bunch of OMG moments for the future chapters.**_

_**Lindsey: not gonna fight ya, LOL I didn't do 'that'...but something more dastardly is coming.**_

_**Nance: no heavy duty BAMF!...yet. Thank you so much for your wonderful work editing!**_

_**IcarusLSU: Thanks as always for letting me rant and rave and whine and ... allow my ideas to run amok in your chat window.**_

_**Aerist: I know you're reading, so thanks!**_

_**Helen and the new reviewer Barnmonkey: Thank you for your reviews!**_

* * *

Arthur listened to the messenger from Gawant. His hands folded under his chin. After a few weeks of quiet and peace, he awoke this morning silently wishing for a bit of action. A break from the mundane meetings would have been nice. He admonished himself…he should be careful what he wished for.

Thus far this day, Lancelot had arrived from Caerleon and asked to rejoin the Knights of Camelot. The king was glad for the extra sword, especially one as good as Lancelot's, but even knowing the truth, Arthur felt a measure of hesitancy around the man. The former knight of Camelot also told them the tale of the creature that attacked Galahad.

The monster was taken directly to the physician's quarters, where Alice, and an ailing Gaius, were contemplating its nature. "It's called a Grindylow…an ancient creature of the fairy world whose sole purpose was to steal children from the edges of streams and lakes," the old man explained. Alone, its appearance would have been chalked up to simply being an odd occurrence, but when added to other reports that had been received; it was appearing to be part of a trend.

Late the night before, a patrol returned with news of other creatures they witnessed, the likes of which they could barely describe. This morning, a rider from a border village brought news of a man matching Bedivere's description, causing trouble. A druid from Iseldir's clan arrived, as well, wishing to speak with Emrys. Now, the herald from Gawant had come with news that Arthur had not expected to hear…

There was an attack in Lord Godwyn's castle on the Lady Hunith. She was still alive when the rider set out, but the news was grim. Arthur turned to Gilli and Leon. "Tell Alice: she is to ride to Gawant immediately to assist, and hopefully, she won't be too late. Send a group of guards with her. Gawant may be close by, but I want no chances taken with all that is happening."

As Gilli started to head off, another servant came in and stopped him. After listening briefly, the manservant turned around and made a beeline back to the king. "Sire, Sir Cai's patrol just returned…with Bran, and an unidentified injured man. They are requesting to speak to you right away."

Arthur nodded his acknowledgement, and turned back to the others gathered. "Excuse me, there is another matter I must attend to."

The king left the room, Gilli and Leon following him. Once in the hallway he spoke, "Gilli, run on ahead and tell Alice she needs to leave for Lord Godwyn's estate post-haste. Leon…"

"I already sent word for the horses to be ready and an escort for her," the tall knight replied.

Gilli nodded, then rushed away from the king towards the Physician's Chambers.

"Good, have Gwaine take word to Merlin about his mother and the decision that was made last night," he said, referring to a secret meeting of the Privy Council he had called the night before...before everything went to hell this morning.

Leon turned to Loholt, who had been silently shadowing him. "Go find Sir Gwaine, and have him report to me, immediately." The boy ran off towards the training field.

Once he was gone Arthur continued in a quiet tone. "Tomorrow morning, I want you and Cai to head out and see if you can figure out what is going on with that brother of his...before Bedivere causes more trouble."

The bow of Leon's head was barely perceptible, but it was enough to let the king know that his concern was understood. He and Leon reached the Physician's Chambers and Arthur entered without knocking.

Bran and another knight stood off to the side, trying their best to stay out of Alice's way. "Which would you rather I do, Sire? Take care of the injured man in front of me, or head off towards some woman I might not be able to assist?" She spat vehemently and without protocol. Obviously, Gilli had already arrived and given her the message, then left to make sure everything was in place.

Arthur's lips twisted in irritation. "The Lady Vivienne has yet to leave for Cornwall. Gaius, with her assistance, would you be able to care for this man?" The king knew Morgana's mother was wishing to depart soon. As a favor to Arthur, she was delaying her journey to keep an eye on the queen, as a personal midwife. Although she assured the king that his wife was fine, the continuing bouts of morning sickness that Gwen suffered made him nervous.

The elderly man nodded, "I believe so, Sire…however…"

"Good, then Alice you are needed in Gawant. That is an order. It is not just 'some woman' you are going to help, but Merlin's mother."

Both physicians' heads shot up. Alice gasped upon the realization and her attitude changed quickly. "Of course, Sire." She turned away from the man she was working on and began to gather her supplies. Catching Gaius's eyes, she could sense the apprehension in him. To hear that something might have befallen the kind woman, whom they had both known for years, was not taken lightly.

Leon had taken a moment during the conversation to move to the unconscious man. "Sire, it's the smuggler, Tristan."

Arthur did not attempt to hide his surprise as he nodded his acknowledgement. It had been years since the smuggler was last spotted. After the funerals of the heroes in retaking Camelot, which included Tristan's love, Isolde, Arthur had offered the man a knighthood. Tristan promptly and none too politely, refused, before disappearing back into the shady world of outlaws and renegades. "Let me know when he awakens," the king said to Gaius.

The old man nodded, taking over from Alice, who was just finishing her packing and heading out the door. She sent a servant to find the Lady Vivienne, and gave Gaius a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

The king turned to Bran and motioned him to follow as they headed out into the stairwell. "I had not expected you in Camelot so soon."

"It appears the storm you sent Sir Cai's patrol to investigate, was located within Corbenic. Grettir's bridge had been destroyed by the time I'd arrived at the gorge. I left the cauldron with him and found another way into the lands. As luck would have it, I came across your knights on my way. If not for Cai, the storm would still be raging. Another of your men was sent to retrieve those who were waiting for me at the old bridge; they should be arriving back here within the next couple of days."

"The storm's origins were magical then?" Arthur asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Yes, an ancient trap in a prison tomb. We suspect the man we found," he motioned back towards the Physician's Chambers, "set it off."

"Sire?" Leon asked, as he listened to the exchange.

"Ah, Leon, I had forgotten, you have not met King Brân Fendigaidd of Corbenic yet."

"Actually, I am still just the prince. Until I can restore my father's lands, I will not take the title of king." Bran stated humbly, holding out his arm in greeting.

Leon grasped it, a smirk tugging on his lips, as he finally took notice of the slight hue to the man's skin. "So you are the infamous 'Headless Green Knight' Sir Gwaine has been telling stories about."

Bran scowled, "If not for your king here, and the fact I have no castle walls available at the moment, I would see Sir Gwaine's head removed and placed on a spike."

The blond knight gave Bran a measured look. He was unable to discern whether or not the man was serious.

Arthur bit back his laughter. To all outward appearances, the two princes, Bran and Gwaine, were at odds with one another. However, Arthur knew it was more of a brotherly irritation at this point, rather than anything more malicious. He decided to change the subject. "You said Sir Cai was instrumental in halting the storm?"

"He was."

"Where is he now?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Once we reached the city, I encouraged him to go get some rest. Poor boy." Bran chuckled. "We almost thought we would need to tie him to his own saddle for the last league, so he wouldn't fall off in exhaustion. He doesn't have much magic, but he was able to use some to get us into the tomb, so we could seal the hole the storm was issuing from. Then he was able to keep that man, Tristan, alive." Bran paused as the flamboyant rogue knight came around a corner towards them. He offered a wide grin, filled with mischief. "Ah, Sir Gwaine!"

A muttered curse escaped the brunette knight as he saw Bran. Leon attempted to stifle a chuckle at the blatant animosity between the two men, while Arthur simply rolled his eyes. Yes, Arthur thought, he really needed to be more careful of his desires.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Cai made it to his room without incident and didn't even bother removing his boots before flopping down on the bed. He did not glance around the room. He just simply allowed his eyes to close, as he sank into the comforting down-fill coverlet atop the mattress. Bran and the others were taking care of the unconscious man. Being completely out of practice, and never formally trained on magical endurance, it became a struggle to maintain consciousness over the last few leagues. Between the blood loss and the dehydration the man suffered, Cai was barely able to keep him alive. By the time they reached the courtyard, the knight was so exhausted; he left the others and went straight to his room.

He was already asleep when Loholt, hearing that his uncle had returned, came into the room. The teen looked over the sleeping man and shook his head. He had hoped to speak to him immediately. Loholt's anxiety was at an all-time high. There was still no sign of Bedivere, and Cai's patrol was overdue by almost a week. With his fourteenth birthday in two days, Loholt wanted to have an answer for Sir Leon soon. He sighed and moved across the room quietly.

He was quite surprised at how deep in slumber Cai was. Usually, his uncle was a rather light sleeper, where just the sound of the door alone would have woken him. Another sign of the man's exhaustive state was that Cai was typically a very fastidious man. The state of his clothing, the fact his boots were still on, and the few days' growth of facial hair had Loholt a bit concerned.

Creeping over to the bed, he carefully slid the boots off. Cai stirred a bit and blinked. It took a few moments before his mind caught up to the situation. "Loholt…"

"Sorry, I figured you didn't want to get your bed dirty with your boots." He bit his lip apprehensively.

Pushing himself up, Cai nodded and yawned. "No, no…it's all right. Thank you. I didn't even hear you come in."

The boy chuckled, "I noticed."

"Why are you wearing Leon's colors?" Cai's eyebrows rose when he noticed the tabard with his lover's crest.

"Uh…well, I'm his page," Loholt mumbled.

"And Bedivere was ok with that? From what I heard of his mood lately, I'm rather surprised."

Loholt's blue eyes showed a hint of fear. "He…uh…he's gone."

"What?" Cai suddenly found himself wide awake, despite the previous exhaustion. "Tell me everything that happened."

Loholt sat the boots aside and went to retrieve a wash basin for his uncle, trying to decide where he should start. "After you sailed off, he just started acting like an ass…"

"Loholt!"

"It's true!" The boy protested, "I know I shouldn't say that about him, but that's what he was."

His uncle sighed and motioned for the boy to continue. While he listened, he began washing up and changing his clothes.

"It was worse than before. He never said anything in front of the others, but when he thought it was just me, he would say things about you…and Sir Leon…"

Cai had gone behind the dressing screen to change. He was thankful that the boy was oblivious to the way he suddenly stiffened and held his breath. Swallowing down his worry, Cai came out in fresh clothes, and began scrubbing his face vigorously with the water in the basin; attempting to hide his emotions. "What type of things?"

"It was stupid and I know it can't be true."

"Then, just tell me what he said," Cai ordered.

"That the reason you never had a wife was because you...um…" Loholt's voice, which Cai had noticed was beginning to change, lowered conspiratorially. "...liked men…but the way he said it wasn't as nice as that, if you know what I mean. I mean, come on, when does Uncle Bedivere ever have anything pleasant to say...but then he said Sir Leon was the same." The boy continued to ramble on, unaware of how his uncle's face paled. "But I know that's not true, because you've just never had a chance while taking care of all of us, and Sir Leon and mum are going to get married…You knew that right?" Loholt asked, mistaking his uncle's silence for surprise about the news of the wedding.

Cai cleared his throat and schooled his features before turning to the boy. "Yeah, yes…we'd discussed it together before I left on patrol."

"I like him. He…uh…wants to adopt me. I don't want to disappoint the king, because he said he would acknowledge me when I came of age and became a knight...but that's so far away."

Cai's jaw hit the floor. "I had no idea about this. I mean the stuff with Leon was briefly mentioned, but not about King Arthur…and you have completely gone off the subject. What happened to Bedivere?"

"Oh…" Loholt was gathering his uncle's gear and dirty laundry from the recent patrol. "We got back and I took the horses to the stables. Uncle Bedivere came in when I had just paused for a minute, because I was really tired. He started getting after me for being lazy and I thought he was gonna take the strap to me again…"

"Again?" Cai interrupted. The fear he felt that Bedivere had somehow found out about Leon and him, was replaced with anger towards his brother's actions.

Loholt sighed and shrugged, "It wasn't that bad, and I know at least once on the trip back I deserved it for mouthing off to him...but I was trying to defend you against the stuff he was saying."

"Then what happened?" The older man asked, his patience growing thin.

"Sir Leon came into the stables and got in his face…and then he shoved him against the door of the stall when Uncle Bedivere tried to push him out of the way. I don't know what he said, but then some other people came in and Uncle Bedivere left. I finished my chores, went and saw mum, and that's when she told me. I don't think I've ever seen her so happy. That's why I really can't imagine why he would even think of something going on between you and Sir Leon…"

"Loholt!"

"Oh, right…uh… yeah. So, she told me to go see Sir Leon and I got to sit with him and Lord Emrys; and King Arthur and the other knights; and they told me that I had options. I got back to the room. The shield was still here, but all his other stuff was gone. I went to go feed the horses and noticed his roan was missing."

"And did you bother telling anyone?"

"Um…" the boy had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed. His voice was soft as he admitted, "I told mum when he didn't come back the next day."

"Did you tell Sir Leon, or Sir Percival?"

"No…"

Cai sank into a chair, his head was pounding. He felt as if he had gone out to a drinking contest with Gwaine the night before.

"Well, I did...a couple of days later. Sir Leon got after me for it at first...but I didn't know what to do! He said as long as it didn't happen again I was fine...but then that's when he offered to make me his page! At least until you got back, and he said when I turned fourteen we could discuss my progress… and well that's the day after tomorrow. So I also wanted to let him know if I want to be his son. Uncle Cai, are you even listening to me?"

Shaking his head, Cai sighed heavily, "Are you really going to be fourteen already?"

Loholt gave his uncle a look of incredulity. It was a gaze Cai had seen on Arthur's face many times since they were boys; a half-amused twitching of the lips that was somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. Despite the weight of his fatigue, Cai couldn't help but snicker when the boy said, "Yes. You've known me my whole life; I thought you would know that."

"I do, I just can't believe you survived this long," he teased. "I love you, as if you were my own son. You know that, right?"

Loholt's face softened, "I know…I think that's why this decision is so hard. I don't want to disappoint you."

Cai stared at the boy for a few moments, before he stood up and wrapped his arms around the young man, in a fatherly embrace. Back home, after the initial shock, he was able to see the potential in the decision for his sister to marry Leon. It was a good agreement for the three adults; but now, looking into his nephew's blue eyes, he began to question it. Deep in his heart, he feared what might happen if the boy ever found out the truth. He wasn't sure he could ever face seeing that level of hurt in Loholt's eyes. "Don't you ever think, for even a second, that I am not proud of you, and the man you will become...no matter what you decide."

(*~*~*~*~*)

He laughed at his little sister. Camelot, this time around, was definitely kinder to the young woman. Her happiness was palpable as she spoke of her growing friendships. He took a drink of his watered wine and looked at the boy who shared their breakfast. Cai was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that the boy he considered as his own, was growing up. A decent night's sleep was all Cai needed to feel truly revived. "Come in," he called out, when he heard a rapping on the door.

"Good morning!" Leon smiled as he entered.

"Morning. Come and join us!" Cai offered from his seat.

Leon graced Lisanor's hand with a soft kiss, and mussed Loholt's hair before responding, "Wish I could, but you and I need to ride out this morning."

Cai's smile disappeared, "Why is that?"

"Arthur wants us to go check out some reports of a man matching your brother's description, causing some trouble north of here."

The dark haired man groaned loudly. "That could take a few days!" He protested.

Leon nodded, his face betraying his confusion of why it should matter.

"That means I won't be here for my birthday!" Loholt whined.

"Ah," the blond knight clucked his tongue upon the realization. "You had best stay behind on this trip. I don't think the king would want you to ride with us anyway."

"But…"

"Loholt," his uncle admonished him. His tone of voice left no room for argument. Cai sighed, wiped his mouth, and put his napkin on the table. "I suppose I'll just have to give you your present now."

He moved over to his armoire and pulled out a small, linen wrapped package. It was only a few inches wide and about a foot long. Loholt snatched it up excitedly. His face filled with anticipation as he began opening it. His face fell when he saw what lay inside, but the boy immediately put on a forced smile. "It's a new belt!" He tried to sound happy. "Thank you, Uncle."

"What? You don't like it?" Cai asked seriously.

"I…I do…its great!"

"Brother," Lisa said, "isn't there something that is supposed to go on the belt?"

"OH! Right." Cai responded ashamedly, as if he had truly forgotten something. He went back to the armoire and pulled out an even longer wrapped package before placing it on the table.

Loholt took no time in opening the new gift, giggling in delight. Before him lay a simple, but well-made, sword. "Uncle Cai," he gasped when he saw it. "It's your old sword!"

"My father gave that to me when I was made a squire. His father gave it to him in a similar fashion. It was crafted by a master sword smith in France, before his side of the family came to these lands."

The boy nearly threw himself into his uncle's arms. "Thank you, so much! I promise to take care of it."

"I know you will." Cai held the boy for a moment before stepping away. "Now, have you made up your mind about what we talked about?"

Loholt nodded, emboldened by his uncle's support and his new sword. "Sir Leon?"

Leon blinked. He was so caught up watching the loving family scene before him, that he felt rather surprised at being addressed. "Hmm?"

"I think…" Loholt glanced at Cai, who smiled encouragingly, "I want to train to be your squire, and be your son."

Leon's eyes slid over to Cai and Lisanor for confirmation before he moved to Loholt's side, and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Nodding proudly and blinking back the sudden tears, he said, "It will be an honor to train you, and call you my own."

(*~*~*~*)

"I really wish you would reconsider."

"Morgana, it's the quickest way to get to my mother."

"But isn't it something you should practice first? What about calling Kilgharrah to take you?"

"I fear what would happen if he was seen in these lands."

"Alright, what about Aithusa, I'm sure she'd be happy to take you!"

Merlin sighed and dragged his hands over his face. "What if my mother is…" He couldn't bring himself to say the actual word he feared. "I don't know if I could handle my own emotions, as well as hers."

Morgana wrapped her arms around her husband. "I know what you said about drawing spells and power from that staff of yours. I would prefer for you to find a different way."

"I'll be fine. Really." He leaned in and gave her a full kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She finally nodded, realizing there was no way she would be able to talk him out of his decision.

Merlin stepped away, he picked up his rucksack and staff. He had been researching the spell he knew was within his grasp, although he had once promised Arthur he would not attempt such a thing until he was old and gray. He doubted Arthur would agree that the extra years on Merlin were negligible enough to risk trying the Changing Spell, but it was his only option for traveling quickly to Gawant. The smooth wood felt warm and alive in his hands, as he channeled through the memories carried by the hawthorn tree from which it came. Finding the one he wanted, he began chanting the words softly.

Morgana watched in silence as a glow enveloped her husband and his body began to shift. It continued to get brighter until she had to shield her eyes from the glare. The power exuded was intoxicating, and Morgana had to brace herself against the balustrade of the tower where they stood.

The light began to dim and where Merlin once stood, there was now a hawk. She had to snigger at the way he uneasily tested his legs and stretched out his wings. Morgana didn't even try to stop the laugh that erupted. "You are going to crash into a tree, or something. I just know it."

The bird made a disgruntled squawking sound. "I appreciate your faith in my abilities." She heard the sarcastic reply in her mind.

Merlin began to flap his wings quickly and managed to raise himself off the floor a few inches.

Aithusa climbed her way up to the wall and looked at the bird curiously. Her head leaned to one side…and then the other. "Father?" Her lips were curled up in disbelief. "You need to practice."

Merlin let the spell go and changed back into his human form, already feeling the fatigue from his short try. He realized his daughter was right. "You were able to fly right away…"

"I'm a dragon, duh. Don't worry, Nana will be alright." Aithusa came up and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He studied her for a moment, wondering if what she said was out of a childish hope…or something deeper. "She will?"

Aithusa nodded with a smile at first. Then her bright disposition faded and she seemed on the verge of tears. Her voice sounded suddenly distant, and much older. "But others won't be when he comes..."

(*~*~*~*)

Vivienne sat beside Tristan and carefully washed his face. She noticed the lines and weathered appearance. It was a far cry from the soft, smooth features they once were. The years had taken their toll. She wondered if such change was reflected in her own face. Her mind began to wander and she couldn't help thinking what her husband might have looked like, had he survived. Tristan and Gorlois were as close as true blood brothers, once upon a time. After her marriage, she came to consider Tristan as a brother as well.

"I take it you know him?" Gaius asked, as he hobbled over to his bed.

Vivienne nodded slightly, "I do. I'm surprised you don't recognize him."

The old man's eyebrow rose, "I know him from when he helped save Camelot years ago. Sadly, his love died in that battle. I never had the privilege of meeting her, but I was told she was quite stunning; both in beauty and in battle."

"But you had met him, even before that. He was much younger then…We all were, Gaius."

"For the life of me, I cannot recall, my dear."

"The last time I saw him, he was still dressed in the finest silks...playing the sweetest harp. He accompanied Lady Helen's voice to celebrate..." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

"…The queen's pregnancy," Gaius gasped. "Yes, I do remember him now. He was your husband's foster brother…King Mark's nephew?"

Vivienne smiled and continued her ministrations.

Gaius's lips formed an 'oh' as his mind began to recall the past. "So, the fair Isolde was the Irish princess whom Tristan fell in love with; before her wedding to Mark. Well, I must say, that makes much more sense now as to why they turned to a life of crime, and shunned anything to do with nobility."

The man on the cot groaned softly, as consciousness began to come back to him. Tristan blinked rapidly against the glare of the candles before his eyes finally settled on Vivienne's face. His voice was hoarse from disuse. "Lady Vivienne, you are not the woman I had hoped to see when I awoke in the afterlife."

"Well, then it's a good thing we are in Camelot and not the Gates of Avalon, Prince Tristan," she told him in a teasing voice.

His confusion was evident as he accepted a cup of water and drank it greedily. "Why are you in Camelot…for that matter, why am I in Camelot?"

Vivienne laughed and took the cup, only to replace it with a tonic Alice had prepared before her departure. Tristan made a face as he drank it. "Sleep now, you need to heal, brother. We will speak more when you wake again."

Tristan wanted to argue, but he soon found his mind clouded by the potion. In his delirium, he could hear the beautiful voice that once sang to him…the most ethereal soprano to have ever accompanied his harp…

_"Night that bears all healing_

_For the wounds of day,_

_Night so softly stealing_

_Bear his soul away._

_"Where the white moon creeping_

_O'er thy silvered lawns_

_There shall find him sleeping_

_When a new day dawns."*_

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin watched as Kilgharrah flew off, leaving him just a short way outside of Gawant.

_The old dragon had felt Merlin's strain as they soared through the sky and questioned him about it. The great roar of laughter nearly shook Merlin off his precarious seat behind the dragon's head. "Tried to fly like a bird, indeed, young warlock."_

_"Oy, that's enough out of you," Merlin had warned, as he clung desperately to the bony ridge in front of him. "But now I know the spell, so I won't need to channel it from the otherworld when I try it again."_

_"Take care with how you use that gift, young warlock," Kilgharrah stated in a warning tone. "And when you are ready, I will personally be honored to teach you to fly. It would be a rather nice change from being used as a horse."_

_"I never thought of you as a horse, Kilgharrah," Merlin smirked. "Horses don't complain as much."_

He shouldered his rucksack and shifted his gray cloak over his shoulders as he turned toward the castle. His staff was firmly in hand. He could feel the visions trying to break through his mind; the price he paid for attempting to use the staff that was given to him...although it wasn't anywhere near the onslaught that ripped across his soul, when he channeled the energy needed to keep Arthur alive. Merlin began to realize, however, that he was going to need to find someone to teach him how to control the wandering visions if he was to remain sane…Gwen wasn't always going to be around to pull him out of it, like she had up north.

He stepped through the gates and made his way to the main courtyard, just as a contingent of guards from Camelot came through. Alice was riding in the center. Breathing a sigh of relief, he was more than glad to see the proficient healer and called out to her.

"Merlin!" She sounded surprised, "I thought you were on your way to Cornwall."

"Actually, we were already there when Morgana received a vision of my mother. Do you know what happened, or how she is?"

Alice accepted his hand, as he helped her off the horse. "I'm afraid I don't know much. As you can see, I just arrived here."

Godwyn came rushing down the steps of the castle. He breathed a visible sigh of relief upon seeing not only the renowned physician from Camelot, but also his son-in-law. Quickly ushering them inside, he tried his best to remain calm as he told them of the incident.

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin's mother was now resting quietly, a large bandage around her neck. The warlock was in a chair by her bedside, holding her hand. The injury was indeed severe, and how she survived could only be called a miracle. Alice was packing up her things, which had been spread out on a table near Hunith's bed. Although it was likely Hunith would have survived without the physician's help, her chances greatly increased under Alice's care.

Hunith smiled softly and squeezed her son's fingers. He smiled at the gesture. Even now, as she lay wounded, she was mothering and comforting him.

"Alice says you're not to talk at all until it heals a bit more...but there is something I can do, to have you show me what happened," Merlin suggested.

She moved her head in a slight nod and winced from the effort. Hunith trusted him and his magic, more than he trusted himself with it. She always had. He leaned forward and touched his fingers to her forehead, while casting a spell.

"I need you to think about what you were doing before this happened, and I should be able to see the memory."

Hunith closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift back to the incident…

_She had just left her husband after a quiet dinner. Nothing seemed amiss; in fact, everything appeared the picture of perfection. Hunith had loved Balinor deeply. To this day, she still missed those memories of him, but Godwyn had come into her life at just the right time. What had, at first, started out as a common desire to not be alone in their later years, grew steadily into a solid friendship between them. She slipped easily into the role of a lady after her son's recognition ceremony, as if it was always destined to be. By the time midwinter came, the lord and his new lady had begun to feel something deeper for each other._

_They were married in the early spring, just after hearing from Camelot that the king was beginning a trip to the north. It was a quiet ceremony, without all the fanfare, tournaments, and feasting that the younger generations enjoyed. She adored Elena, and the young woman had begun to think of Hunith as the mother she never had. Merlin returned with news of his own wedding, and they shared their joy at finding the ones they would spend the rest of their lives with. She hoped that soon he would have everything he dreamed of in Camelot. With Godwyn's acceptance of Morgana, Hunith knew the raven beauty would find her way back into Camelot as well._

_These thoughts kept her mind occupied as she walked through the halls. There were no threats present, so Hunith…still a very independent woman…made her way back to her chambers without an escort._

_She did not see, or hear, the cloaked man coming up behind her. His hand, stinking of filth covered her mouth; and a dagger, its edge sharp, pressed into the tender skin of her throat. His breath was hot and rancid against her cheek. "Forgive me, My Lady, but there is something of your late husband's that I need."_

_The blade bit deep into her neck, as she felt as the torc that Balinor had given her being ripped off. She felt him release his hold, and Hunith fell to the floor, gasping for air. All she could see was the man's back as he disappeared into a dark alcove._

_Seconds later, she heard Elena scream; the voice of the young woman ordering the guards to lock down the castle...as her hands tried desperately to staunch the blood coming from Hunith's throat._

Merlin sat back, the need for vengeance clouding his eyes. "I will find who did this to you and get Balinor's torc back."

Hunith tried to shake her head, but the bandaging prevented the movement.

"Don't you dare try and talk me out of it…" he paused at the incredulity that shone in his mother's eyes. A lopsided smirk appeared, "Ok, Mother, bad choice of words on my part, seeing as you can't talk me out of it."

She slapped his leg lightly.

"The thing is…I know that voice. I can't remember who it is, or where from…but I know it, and I will find him." Merlin walked over to his rucksack and pulled out a red piece of cloth.

Hunith's eyebrows went up as she recognized it as one of his neckerchiefs.

"Here, you can use this to cover the bandages. Morgana says I'm not allowed to wear them anymore."

If Hunith could have laughed, she would have. As it was, her amusement shone brightly in her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11- The Cliff

_AN: I will be lacing up my running shoes as you all read this, so that I may better dodge the pitchforks afterwards for this... *gulp* well you could call it a cliffhanger._

_Huge thanks to Nance for the edits and goosing my muse in the right direction! IcarusLSU for the sounding board! And Aerist for the *cough* flames... and for encouraging... well this to happen!_

_Also to all those who silently read, and those who review... *air kisses* _

_So...warnings: Slash snogging, and lots and lots and lots of angst... and all that with a side of OMG did I just write that?_

* * *

Cai stretched out near the fire and gazed up at the stars through the trees. The rushing sound of a nearby river provided a soothing melody for his weary soul. He allowed his thoughts to wander over the past. For the last three days, he and Leon had been riding through the different villages north of Camelot, searching for his brother. The latest one was only a few leagues from the citadel, as they followed the reports along towns in an arching pattern. The description was hard to mistake: a large one-handed man with dark hair, green eyes, and a bad attitude. It seemed that at least one man, who tried to get between Bedivere and his drink, sported a few new scars.

While they had not located Bedivere yet, Cai knew that they were at least going in the right direction. He was growing more disheartened by the reports they came across. If his brother kept up his current tirade, it would end up being much worse than anything he could imagine. Cai chided himself for not recognizing the growing darkness in his brother after he had returned through the gateway to Hell.* He was selfishly hopeful of finally seeing Leon again; his throughts were not on his family…as they should have been.

He closed his eyes, intent on trying to get some sleep when he felt something bounce off his forehead. Cai blinked, green eyes searching the branches above him for something that may have fallen. Seeing nothing, he readjusted himself; his hands clasped under the back of his head, elbows splayed out, and closed his eyes again.

No sooner had he begun to relax, when he felt something else hit him. His eyes shot open, intent on catching whatever it was, when he heard a stifled snigger from the other side of the fire. He grasped a twig and threw it back at Leon. "You are being annoying," he deadpanned.

"And you are thinking too loud." Leon grinned and brushed his curly blond hair behind his ear. "What's on your mind?"

Cai shrugged, "A lot of things. Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Cai," Leon said with a warning tone. "Don't shut me out…please. I don't think I could go another fifteen years without you talking to me."

The darker knight sighed, "You know, the last time I saw you, before all this, I was standing at the window…holding a newborn babe in my arms. I wanted so badly to rush to the door and see you."

"Even then, I would have gladly married your sister, if I knew…and thought it could help you."

"I know that now, but I was nineteen. For ten years already, I had been trying to take care of my family, since my mother died. My father was always gone to some war or other, at the behest of the king. He never got around to hiring a proper governesse to take care of us." His voice drifted off. "My only concern at that moment was the child I held. The boy was everything to me, from the moment I found out Lisa was pregnant."

Leon leaned back against a tree and watched the other man carefully. He was thankful to finally hear some of the story from Cai. It gave him a chance to try to understand more about the separation that had come between them…an opportunity to get to know the man he cared so much about.

"I failed my brother, Leon."

"Bollocks," Leon argued.

Cai chuckled sourly, "No, I did…I tried my damnedest, but it wasn't good enough."

"You were barely more than a child yourself! What could you have done?"

"Hell, Leon, you were there for Bedivere more than I was at times!" Cai snapped back.

"Then the fault should be on us both. It is not your guilt to carry alone, my friend. I would like to be there for him again, as well as for you."

The two men fell silent for a while. Leon was worried that the conversation had ended, so he stretched out his foot and nudged at Cai's elbow.

When Cai finally spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion. "We can't do this, Leon. We just…can't. What's between us, it needs to stop."

Leon's brow knitted into a frown. He pushed himself up from the tree and moved around the campfire towards his companion. Stretching out next to Cai, Leon put his hand on the other's shoulder. "Cai, don't say that. We have only just found each other again…"

Cai stiffened and refused to meet Leon's eyes. "On their journey, Bedivere said things to Loholt. I don't know how my brother found out."

"I sort of guessed he suspected, after the greeting I got from him in Camelot…but I don't understand why we should be expected to cater to his moods alone."

"Because he needs me," Cai answered. "What if he tells others?"

"Arthur knows, and other than sticking his foot in his mouth…in a very unkingly manner," Leon snickered at the memory. "He accepts it…and the arrangement we have made."

Cai shook his head in disbelief, uncertain as to how he felt about the king knowing. He then explained the conversation he and Loholt had to Leon. "I know Bedivere blames me for most of what has happened. If it was just him...I could deal with it, but what about my nephew? I couldn't bear the thought of Loholt looking at me like I was a monster. He doesn't believe what my brother said, but if he ever did find out the truth, what would happen?"

Leon sat up and pensively took a deep breath. "We'll just have to be extra careful."

"And what if you and Lisa have children? What would we do then?"

The blond man laughed, "We'll deal with that when it happens. You worry too damn much. You know that, right? Growing up, you were so…moody at times; always more concerned about others than yourself, especially when it came to your family. Truthfully, that is one of the greatest things about you, Cai…but, it's also really annoying at times."

"Shut up," Cai grumbled and shoved the other man's shoulder.

Leon gave his companion a flirtatious grin filled with a challenge and a promise. "Make me."

Cai's hand shot up and wrapped around the back of Leon's neck. He pulled the other man down and mashed their lips together.

Leon groaned and fell into the kiss, his mouth opening against his lover's as his tongue sought entrance. Rolling on top of Cai, he slid his knee in between Cai's legs and lowered himself onto the other man. Cai groaned when Leon's mouth left his, leaving a trail of hot kisses down his neck. His own hands were threading through the wondrously soft curls on Leon's head.

The blonde's fingers trailed gently under Cai's shirt and pushed it up. Cai released his lover's hair and assisted in removing the clothing. A light breeze danced through the forest and sent a chill through Cai. His skin erupted in goose bumps from the duel sensations of hot and cold.

Leon chuckled and licked his way down Cai's chest. His hands deftly loosening the drawstring of Cai's pants. Leon's palm slid downward past the waistband and into their depths. He was rewarded with a moan of pleasure. For so many years, he had dreamt of having Cai underneath him like this, completely at his mercy. He sucked on the brunette's neck and had to rein himself in, lest he left any signs of their lovemaking. As much as he wanted to leave his mark on his lover, he knew it would do neither of them any good if they were found out. He rubbed his short beard against the dark stubble of growth along Cai's jawline, while Cai's hands grasped his lover's backside, encouraging him.

Leon took notice when Cai's hands released and stretched outward. Cai lifted his head and whispered into Leon's ear. Schooling himself to keep up the pretense of lovemaking, Leon cautiously removed his hand from his love's breeches and pulled the drawstring tight. He saw the angle of Cai's fingers stretch, as Cai reached towards the hilt of the his sword. Leon glanced over at his own, still resting against a tree on the other side of the fire.

He was ready when Cai suddenly sprang into action, allowing himself to be pushed away from Cai . He felt a momentary flash of panic, as a sword came down into the bedroll they had just vacated, and Cai rolled into the glowing coals of their campfire.

Springing up onto his feet, he catapulted towards their assailant, knocking him back. In a second, he recognized Bedivere's sword coming towards him, then suddenly stopped by Cai's blade...but he didn't see the club-like arm as pain coursed through his skull.

(*~*~*~*)

"I failed my brother…" Those four words rang such truth in his ears. It cemented what Bedivere already believed. Cai had known exactly what he was doing and how it would affect his family. His brother may have well just admitted his guilt for killing their father outright. In the hidden depths of Bedivere's mind, the little boy who lay stowed away under the rough exterior created after years of tragedy, might not have agreed. Any semblance of that child was quashed under the growing waves of pain and rage.

He held his breath and stayed as silent as he could, although it sickened him to watch the way the two men acted with one another. At first, he had nearly convinced himself that Leon was the one responsible for corrupting his brother…but hearing Cai's words, Bedivere realized that was not the case. It was the other way around.

He wanted to wait until they were close to sleep before he made his move. Then he noticed the blond stand up and make his way around the fire. Unfortunately, this put Leon between Bedivere and the man who disgraced him. Bedivere's eyes narrowed. He wondered if his father would be proud or not of what he planned to do. Inside, he was being eaten away by the conflict. Sir Ector died as a brave knight of King Uther's Camelot…what Bedivere planned to do, was not worthy of those knights. He knew it, but the way his father's ghost berated him and ordered him to 'fix' the problem lay heavily on the man.

Bedivere felt his stomach turn as the two men at the camp ceased their talking and moved onto something much more vulgar than flirtatious words. He turned his back. He couldn't bear to witness the lewd display of affection between the two men. Bedivere gripped his sword and clenched his jaw. As quietly as he could, he steeled himself and turned to move forward. If their bodies were ever to be found, he would make sure that the dishonor of their positions would seal them in unmarked graves as due for the abominations that they were.

(*~*)

Not long after Cai's shirt had come off, something caught his attention off to the side. He pushed himself up and breathed into Leon's ear, "Be on guard." Lying back, he stretched out his arms, a smile on his face. The tips of his fingers seeming to brush casually against the hilt of his sword. Blue eyes followed the movement and Leon turned his head to the side, noting that his own sword was on the opposite side of the fire. Cai could see Leon mentally cursing himself for his carelessness.

Cai hoped it was simply his imagination, or just an animal out in the forest, but his instincts told him otherwise. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when a large shadowy form appeared from the darkness. He managed to shove Leon off him and roll to the side. He felt the coals in the fire as they scorched his bare back, just as Bedivere drove his sword into the recently vacated bedroll.

Leon stood quickly and shoved hard into Bedivere, knocking him back from the camp. Bedivere managed to maintain the grip on his sword and brought it, swinging down, on the blond knight. It hit steel as Cai's blade intercepted it, but he followed through quickly with the bone and hardened scar tissue at the end of his disfigured arm. It slammed into the side of Leon's head; successfully knocking the blond knight to the ground.

"Bedivere, what the hell are you doing?" Cai all but screamed at his brother.

"What I should have done years ago, but I was too cowardly to," Bedivere growled.

Cai advanced on him and asked, his voice quiet, "How long have you known?"

"Since just before Father died. The gods took him as punishment for your…filthy ways. They took my hand because I was too scared to tell anyone what I saw."

"That's not true Bedivere! You lost your hand because you lost your temper and Arthur was a better swordsman."

Bedivere bore down on his brother in his rage. "And Father? How do you explain that?"

"He was a knight, following his king's command!" For every strike Bedivere offered, Cai deflected as he tried to get through to his younger sibling. "It is a risk we all acknowledge when we give our oaths."

"Well see, I never had a chance to learn that, did I? Thanks to you. I only made the oath to Arthur so I could be rid of you."

Cai was wary of the insanity in his brother's voice. "But why this way, Bedivere? You could have spoken to me about this. I have always tried to be there, and listen to you; to cater to your needs and make sure you still had a roof over your head and food in your belly. I have done the best I could to take care of you. I left everything I wanted behind to take care of you and Lisanor, and then Loholt. I did what I did for you, brother! Bran told me about what you all went through in that hell. I would have spoken to you about it, if I had known."

The snarl on Bedivere's face was enough to tell Cai that his brother was beyond reason. He felt his arms growing weak under the constant assault of Bedivere's blade. Bedivere shoved into him and knocked Cai into a tree. The burns on Cai's back had begun to blister and they broke open against the rough bark, causing the man to cry out at the unexpected pain.

The younger brother's breath was hot and stank of ale as he encroached into Cai space. "You did nothing but screw up my life. You were supposed to take care of us. Well, I won't let you poison Loholt with your filth." He leaned in, his short arm across Cai's throat and his sword poised to strike.

A blade appeared under Bedivere's chin. "Hold your sword, Bedivere. It doesn't have to be like this," Leon said with an authoritative calm. "You need to sober up and get a grip on yourself, my friend. If not for me or your brother…do it for your sister, and her son. Loholt cares for you, but he is afraid to see you like this."

The mention of the boy finally seemed to break through the toughened exterior and Leon saw him relax slightly. He too, eased his stance and then all hell broke loose.

Bedivere struck out with a howl of primal rage.

Leon barely managed to bring his sword back up.

Cai attempted to move to the side. He cried out in agony as his brother's blade bit into his upper arm; severing the muscle of his right bicep.

His brother's blood, more than anything else in the past weeks, finally cracked the psychosis. Bedivere looked to his older brother…his eyes begging for guidance out of the hell he suffered. The eyes of a child...that is what Cai saw. A child who had suffered greatly and wished only for a mother or father to take his hand, and tell him everything was going to be all right. As before, in the past years, Cai knew that job fell to him.

Leon was furious at the ruse, and missed the millisecond of peace that came between the brothers. His sword swung across, and caught Bedivere's blade, sending it wide.

Instinct snapped back to the one-handed man and he brought up his defenses.

Cai grasped his bleeding arm and stumbled away from the tree, attempting to reach them. He tried to call out, but his voice was weak, and went unheard over the clashing of steel. He stared at the two men, pleading for them to stop.

The blond knight continued his flurry of blows, pushing Bedivere back. Step by step, until the younger man, running out of energy, stumbled. His foot slipped on the loose stones strewn on an overhang above the river gorge…and he began to fall.

Cai finally manage to shoulder Leon out of the way and lunged to grasp his brother's hand. His dominant arm was now useless, and his weaker left arm was coated in blood.

He gritted his teeth, his upper body straining with Bedivere's weight. The stones underneath his torso scraping against the bare skin as they struggled, each with only a single hand to hang onto one another.

After realizing what had happened, Leon tossed his sword to the side and rushed to try to assist; helping to anchor Cai from sliding forward on the ledge.

Time seemed to slow. Bedivere and Cai's eyes met and they knew it was for the last time.

Bedivere would never agree with his brother's choice, but he had known about it for years and never said a word. In his right mind, he never would have gone this far…he knew that now...they both did.

Their hands began to slip. The blood and sweat coating them made it impossible to maintain their grip…

Cai screamed his brother's name, as his fingers and his brother's began to separate. Bedivere fell into the raging river below.

* * *

_*Reference to previous fic Into Hell_


	12. Chapter 12- The Damsel

_AN: Ok, sorry about the serious downer last chapter. I've planned for a while to kill off one of the brothers, but the timing, and which one, never felt right with the flow...until then. So...now with the major angst out of the way, here's a bit more angst/adventure followed by some Gwaine :) (He's been threatening to have his agent sue if I didn't get him back in the story). Bringing back a previously seen face, introduction of a new cast member, and of course... Gwaine being Gwaine._

_Super duper thanks to Nance for editing! _

* * *

Tristan strode cautiously through the halls of the castle. He was still weak and his feet were unsteady, as he made his way to the king's solar. Gilli, the young man sent to escort him, stepped up to the door and rapped sharply before he entered. "Hello, Arthur." Tristan said, before Gilli could announce him.

The king looked up and smiled. Arthur stood and motioned for Tristan to sit. "We meet again. How have you been...aside from the obvious recent adventure?"

Tristan nodded as he sat. The servant offered him a cup of wine. "Yes, it appears we are destined to cross paths again...although I did not recognize any of your knights who found me, and I'm certain at least one of them used a bit of magic."

Arthur chuckled, "Oh come now, I'm sure you've heard of the changes that have taken place in my kingdom."

"I have, however hearing and seeing are two different matters. Speaking of...I heard that scrawny little twit who used to follow you everywhere and do all your thinking, has now been made the heir of this great kingdom."

The king scowled, "That 'little twit' was discovered to be my cousin, and a rather powerful magic user."

"Oh, right. So, you are claiming you had no knowledge of his skills when we met before. How convenient is that?"

"Tristan, I did not invite you here…"

"You didn't invite me at all."

"…to my chambers," the king continued, "to discuss my family or my recent policy on magic. My men found you in a tomb, where it appeared you set off a trap and caused a widespread magical storm to issue forth. The fact you are alive today is due to them fixing the problem you created...and my new found appreciation of magic."

Gilli's eyes widened, as he viewed the exchange. His secret position, as a protector for the king, had him on edge around the newcomer. Tristan's boisterous laugh startled him.

The smuggler noticed the skittishness. He smiled at Arthur and jerked his thumb towards Gilli. "Not as seasoned as your former servant was I see?"

Arthur laughed with him, "No, Gilli here still has some learning to do…although, you really should have seen Merlin when I first met him. He made Gilli look like solid rock."

The servant scowled slightly, unable to figure out where the joke on him ended and the possible compliment began.

"Gilli, I think my stalls need a good mucking out. Why don't you go see to that?" Arthur waved his hand dismissively.

"But what if you need more wine, Sire?" The young man asked, a false smile plastered on his face.

Arthur's eyebrow rose in challenge.

Tristan did not miss the silent exchange between the two men, nor the fact that Arthur's new servant wore a sword at his belt. For the moment, he kept his observations to himself.

With a disgruntled look, Gilli set the jug of wine down unceremoniously. He bowed sharply to the king, and left the room.

A loud guffaw erupted from Tristan the moment the door closed. "Really, Arthur? He's no servant."

The king pursed his lips. "That obvious?"

He received a shrug in response. "The sword…and lack of manners kind of gave it away."

"Yes, you would know how a proper servant is supposed to act in a royal household, wouldn't you?"

Tristan inhaled sharply and glared at the king. He should have known the physician and Lady Vivienne would have informed Arthur of his origins by now.

"Don't worry; I won't hold being a noble against you. I have been finding a good many of my friends and acquaintances lately suffering from the same malady." He covered his grin with his wine cup as he sat back and took a drink. "So, tell me, why were you in the Perilous Lands trying to get into a cursed tomb?"

He spread his arms wide and grinned as he answered, "Treasure, what else?"

"But you're not a grave-robber. You are a smuggler. I didn't expect the likes of you to go out looking for more adventure than that."

Tristan studied his cup, turning it around in his hands. "My chosen trade hasn't held the same appeal for me in recent years since my...um...partner died. I was looking for one last hurrah to retire on." He downed the contents of the cup before roughly setting it on Arthur's desk. His voice sounded distant. "Since I failed, I fear all may be lost to me."

"What else did you have to lose?" The king asked in honest concern. His instinct told him there was much more to the smuggler than just his ability to move goods.

After a few moments, the older man finally responded, "My daughter."

"I see. Tell me everything, and I will do what I can to help. I owe you that and more for what you have done for me."

(*~*~*~*~*)

"Where's your dear daddy at, sweet pea?"

Aylass sneered and rolled her eyes, thankful her face was hidden behind a wall of golden hair. She knelt in her garden, collecting of all things...peas. She knew the voice behind her and it was not one she wanted to hear. Less than two months prior, her father brought home his associate so they could discuss a new plan for getting rich. She knew her father and her mother had both been born to privilege.* Isolde, however, was happy with their outlaw's lifestyle. Her father, on the other hand, longed for the opportunity to shower his ladies with more than they could afford.

Since her mother's death, Tristan had lost his heart for the rugged smuggling trade. He had been searching for a way out of it. When an old friend of his came calling with the promise of wealth, despite Aylass not being shy in telling her father about her misgivings, Tristan had jumped on it.

"Not here," she said, standing up and brushing the dirt off her hands. A pleasant smile slid into place as she turned around to face him. "Maybe you should come back another time, Alvarr." The blond girl bent down and picked up her basket, filled with summer vegetables. She moved past the scruffy-looking sorcerer, towards the small cottage she shared with her father.

Alvarr caught her arm and cocked his head, looking into her bright blue eyes. In a sultry voice he crooned, "Now darling, I'm sure you and I can find a way to pass the time until he gets home." Most women would swoon at him being so close. Moreover, his voice held a sense of magnetism over them. He had used it to his advantage many, many times. "I just need a place to sit down for a while." He slid his hand down her arm, fingers trailing softly to her hand, as he reached for the basket. He felt her react to his touch, and smiled.

However, Aylass was not a foolish, love-struck girl in need of rescuing, as most of Alvarr's conquests were. Her reaction was that of repulsion, not enchantment. She jerked her arm away before he could 'assist' her with the basket. "If it pleases you, you can sit down out here until he returns, thank you."

Realizing the young girl was not falling for his charms, he grasped her arm again. This time with more force. "It does not please me, since your father failed to arrive at our meeting point. I need to know where he is. I gave him a very important map to check out...and now, sweet pea, I need to know what he found out."

"Well then, you're just out of luck aren't you?" She scowled and prepared to stomp on his foot, when they heard hoofbeats approaching through the forest.

A young lad, who recently joined her father's band, came rushing up. Alvarr slipped a dagger out of his belt and placed its tip into the small of Aylass' back. "Don't do anything stupid, girl," he warned quietly.

The boy slid out of the saddle and came towards them. "Aylass…your father…" he breathed heavily.

"What happened?"

"We found the tunnels and I was waiting outside them, when the storm started…"

"Tanith, what storm?" She asked, confused by his ramblings.

"Didn't the storm touch this place?"

She shook her head no. Aylass wanted to run forward and shake the boy to find out what happened to her father, but the blade in her back and Alvarr's arm on hers, kept her in place.

"They went in," he said, tying his horse to a post, "and then the storm started. It wasn't natural! A couple of days later a group of knights from Camelot came through. I hid off in the forest and waited. Then the storm just…stopped. The knights came back through and your father was with them. But he didn't look real good, and none of the other guys that went with him were there."

"Was my father alright?" Her voice shook with fear.

He moved closer to her and she could see his eyes shift to the man next to her. "I don't know. He looked dead, but one of the knights was using magic or something to try to save him. I followed them to Camelot, then came straight here." The boy was fingering the hilt of his sword. He could now see the tension in his boss' daughter was more than just worry for her father. He nodded a stiff greeting at Alvarr. "You're the one he was talking to before he went through the tunnels."

Alvarr smiled charismatically, "I am. He and I had a business deal we were working on. I have been so worried about him since he didn't show up to meet me! Perhaps, we can help each other out, boy. Tell me where these tunnels are, and I promise I will help you get Tristan out of Camelot, safe and sound."

"I don't think he's a prisoner…"

"Of course he is! He's a smuggler, an outlaw!" He cast a careful glance at Aylass, warning her not to do anything stupid. "Tanith?"

"Yes sir," the boy replied.

"Do you know what the punishment is for evading the king's taxes?"

The boy nodded. "Death…"

"Smart boy. Darling Aylass here, doesn't have sense enough to be worried that her father will meet that sort of fate, but you…ah yes, you, Tanith… I can see, you know better." He smiled appraisingly at Tanith and could see his charm working on the impressionable young man.

Aylass tried to move her head to warn the boy not to fall for the gilded words, but he was too caught up in Alvarr's influence. "You promise you can get him out?"

"On my life," the sorcerer's face was somber as he spoke to the boy. His dagger moved slightly from Aylass's back. "Now where is the entrance to the tunnels?" He asked. If knights had recently used them, the trail inside the caverns should be easy to follow, even without the map he had given to Tristan. All he needed was a starting point.

Sighing, the boy told him where to go. "I can even take you there, if you like."

Alvarr shook his head, "I don't think that will be necessary, Tanith." He reached out to clasp the boy on the shoulder, an appreciative smile on his face. "Although I need to be certain, you won't tell anyone else about this."

"What do you mean?" Tanith's face was a mask of confusion and pain as the concealed dagger swiftly found its way under the boy's ribs. The boy slumped to the ground.

Aylass took the opportunity to run for the cottage. Just outside the door, under a bush, lay a sword. She grabbed for it, but her movements were too slow for the spell that suddenly blew her away from the house. She landed in a heap on the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

"Now, sweet pea, I don't think you want to be doing that. I could do with a bit of company on my trip…"

(*~*~*~*~*)

"Bloody hell!" Gwaine exclaimed, as he finally managed lead his horse out of some rather dense underbrush. Two years prior, he and a few other knights had found the short cut through the forest towards Cornwall. Technically part of Nemeth's lands, it skirted along the borders between Nemeth and an area of Cornwall that now belonged to King Odin. While a treaty now held the peace between Arthur and Odin, it was still tenuous.

Originally, Gwaine thought the shortcut would have saved at least a day. That was before his horse was tangled in some vines. He lost his own footing and grappled with some thorn bushes. His two skins filled with mead were washed down a river that he unexpectedly fell into. Finally, he came out, looking the worse for wear, to see the road a day later than anticipated.

At this rate, Merlin was going to kill him for being so late with the news…if he ever made it to Tintagel. This was especially true when he finally understood that the road he now stood on, wasn't the road he thought it was.

Gwaine looked at his horse and patted the animal on the neck. "Well, Gringolet, I have to say...I think we're lost..and I blame you for it."

Gringolet snorted and rubbed his massive forehead against his master's shoulder, nearly knocking the knight over again.

"Hey!" Gwaine protested and slapped the animal across the shoulder. He was about to give the horse a good chewing out when he noticed a sudden change. The black stallion's head perked up, his ears twitching in circles. A quiver in his muscles preceded a small fit of pawing at the ground. "Shhh," Gwaine whispered, rubbing the poll between Gringolet's ears. He drew his sword cautiously out of the scabbard and looked around for danger.

A woman's scream caught his attention from the woods across the road. Never one to pass up the chance to rescue a damsel in distress...he rushed off.

* * *

_AN: *Refers to the myths of Tristan and Isolde. Their daughter is a totally fictional creation from my own mind. Oh and for a visual of Aylass: look up Emily Rose images on google (or if you watch syfy's Haven she plays Audrey Parker)_

_Never fails...I have serious tragedy and some of you guys make pun of it. LOL Ok the whole "cliff-hanger" I left was just asking for it._

_Thank you for the reviews- even Aerist's attempts at flames. hehe (She told me she was going to get around to reviewing and said, oh heck you can even flame if you want...so that was totally my fault... but she really did egg me on to kill someone.)_

_Thank you as well to all those that have added me and this series of stories to their favorites and alerts lists!_

_Next chapter you should start to see where I'm actually going with some of this build up._


	13. Chapter 13- Decisions

Leon forced himself to breathe evenly as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. He was planning on giving his report to Arthur about the events that transpired in his search with Cai. The other knight was currently in a drugged sleep, thanks to a rather strong potion from Alice, who had returned from Gawant. Sir Percival had been sent back out to the area with a group of knights, guards, and hounds to continue the search.

"What are you doing here?" Leon asked when he saw Merlin in the Small Council Chambers. The warlock was sitting at the table in his designated seat, to the right of the king's throne. "I didn't think Sir Gwaine would have reached Cornwall with the news so quickly."

Merlin chuckled, "The joys of having a wife who is a seer and a dragon for a friend. I managed to get to Gawant the day after my mother was attacked."

The knight chuckled, realizing he shouldn't be so surprised at the way Merlin now spoke freely of himself. "How is she?"

"Thankfully, there is no permanent damage, and she will recover. I have a feeling I know the person responsible, or at least I'm certain I have met him once before." Merlin took a moment to assess Leon. There was a bruise above his temple, another on his opposite cheek, and a look of sadness in his eyes. "I heard you found Bedivere..."

Leon nodded once and took his seat next to Merlin.

"How's Cai holding up, I heard he was injured?"

The knight shrugged, "Alice gave him something to keep him knocked out for a while...but physically he'll heal."

The doors opened and Arthur came inside the room. Both men stood and bowed to their king. He sat in his throne and gazed at the two men, who retook their seats. "How's your mother?" He asked Merlin first, wanting to get the easy report out of the way. "And how the blazing hell did you get there so fast? I can't imagine Gwaine making it to Tintagel so quickly."

Merlin chuckled and explained Morgana's vision...and his subsequent attempt at transformation. He earned a smack on the back of his skull.

"I told you not to do that!"

"Well, I ended up calling Kilgharrah anyway...flying is not as easy as it appears. Don't let those birds fool you." He rolled his eyes as the two men snickered. "I'd like to borrow a horse to get back to my wife, however."

"No," the king said flatly. He held up his hand before Merlin could argue. "Gwaine is carrying other news as well. I met with the knights and others of my council the evening before we received the news concerning Hunith. Sir Gwaine was already planning to head out and invite, not only Aithusa and yourself, but also Morgana back to Camelot."

Merlin couldn't suppress his surprise. He chortled in delight, a wide grin eating up his face. "Really? Are you serious?" He nearly bounced in his seat with uncontained glee.

Leon and Arthur shared a look of amusement. While the former had only recently begun to glimpse the changes from servant to noble, the latter was more than glad to see the lively spark of innocent joy return to his friend.

"But wait," Merlin stilled suddenly. "What about..."

"Don't worry," the king assured him. "We've figured out a plan, which I will discuss with you in detail later. For now, let me just say: I would much rather you be here..." He tapped his finger on the table for emphasis. "...where I can keep you from being a complete idiot with the whole bird business; than off someplace and I be unable to get immediate word to you if needed."

"Aww...you were worried about me?" His cheeky grin returned.

A phrase commonly heard from the king snapped out. "Shut up, Merlin." Arthur turned to Leon. "Tell me what happened?"

The knight studied the table in front of him for a few moments before telling Arthur the course of events the night before. "Forgive me, My Lord...I realize now my error in judgment concerning Sir Cai."

"What do you mean?"

"Aside from my personal feelings, I also treated Cai like a seasoned knight, instead of one who has less than a year of actual experience as such."

Arthur and Merlin shared a concerned glance.

Leon continued, "Nearly every patrol and quest he has been on, according to the reports, there have been incidents; be it Cai having been injured, or...other things."

The king nodded solemnly. He was inclined to agree with his commander's assessment. "I believe we all put on blinders when it came to him. Do you believe with more field time, he will gain the skills needed?"

"I do, Sire. I also know the men he led to the Perilous Lands recently, admire him for his command skills, which I attribute to his experience in managing his estate. After last night, however..." Leon's lips twitched nervously. "I do not believe he will trust my command...at least for a while..."

(*~*)

_Cai began to shake as waves of grief and guilt washed over him. His eyes blinked rapidly and feeling began coming back into his limbs. He stood on trembling legs and automatically tried to reach for his gambeson* with his right hand. He winced and hissed from the pain that shot down his arm and across his shoulders._

_Leon stepped up. "Cai, you need to sit back down."_

_Green eyes glinted with deadly intent in the firelight. Hatred and anger focused on Leon, and the blond man unconsciously took a step back. Cai let his gaze drop and awkwardly shrugged his left arm into the padded coat. He draped the right side over his shoulder._

_"It's too dark out…you'll only get hurt if you go out there now. Wait until morning, I beg you." Leon reached for his companion, hoping that he could offer some sort of comfort. He didn't expect the fist that came across from the left and caught him square in the jaw._

_Cai didn't say anything. He picked up a burning branch from the fire to use as a torch and set off towards the river._

_Leon did the only thing he could at that moment. Rubbing his now tender jaw, he grabbed his own makeshift torch, and went to help._

_Morning came and there was no sign of Bedivere's body. They found his roan tied to a tree nearby. In the growing light of day, Cai could see the rocks in the white and foaming rapids, below the place where his brother fell. The area of the river itself was inaccessible, but from the top, he was able to discern what appeared to be blood on the tops of the sharp boulders. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew it was unlikely his brother survived the fall. The racing water would have carried Bedivere far downstream._

_He heard Leon come up beside him. "I'm sorr…"_

_"Don't." Cai closed his eyes and turned away from the river. "I can't deal with this right now, Leon. Maybe someday, I don't know…but as of this moment, I'm not sure if I can ever forgive you...or myself."_

_The blond knight realized any explanation would fall on deaf ears. "Let's go back to Camelot. I'll talk to Arthur and have him send men out to search."_

(*~*)

"Damn," the king cursed softly. He turned and eyed his cousin, who appeared lost in thought. "Out with it," he ordered.

Merlin scratched his chin and tried to gather his meandering thoughts. "Well, I might have a solution."

The other men stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to continue. "Really, Merlin? Are you going to make us sit here all day? Perhaps I should go ahead and order us some lunch."

"Oh right!" Merlin smiled sheepishly. "Cai has magic."

Arthur clenched his fists and controlled his urge to smack his former servant. "Yes, Merlin...we are aware of that."

The warlock shifted in his seat to lean on the table in front of him. "Well, so does Gilli, and I know... despite my protests...you still want to make him a knight; but, well, Gilli is a lot younger and is a commoner.

"I've worked with him, as have Gaius and Alice...but without his ring to channel his ability through, he's not very powerful.

"Even if he was fully trained in magic, he wouldn't be that key figure you've been sort of looking for to help persuade the last of your lords and other kingdoms to finally...truly...see that you are accepting magic.

"Most people have guessed that I have magic, or have heard the knights and such tell tales about it.

"But even if I was to fully come out and say 'Yes, I have magic', or call down a dragon...even with me being a noble now; I'm not a knight, which is a key part of what this kingdom is built on..."

Inside himself, Leon was near dying with laughter. Outwardly, he bit his bottom lip and shook his head at the apparent nonsensical ramble.

"Merlin," the king said quietly, interrupting Merlin's odd speech. He blinked rapidly while he tried to rein in his temper. "What does this have to do with Sir Cai?"

"OH! Well, with training, he could actually be rather proficient with magic. Plus, he is already a knight...and a high ranking nobleman."

Arthur rolled his eyes sarcastically, oblivious to the actual train of thought Merlin was presenting. "So?"

The Knight Commander, on the other hand, could see...finally...where Merlin was going. "Sire, I think Merlin is saying he wants to train Sir Cai. He may be the key to helping to finalize this transition from your father's rule to yours."

They could see it in the king's eyes when it finally clicked.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Gwaine's brown eyes narrowed maliciously, assessing the situation. He had discovered a cleverly hidden path through the trees and followed it to its end near a small cottage, tucked away from the world. A young woman was struggling to rise against an unseen force, which Gwaine deduced to be magical. A man with greasy dark blond hair that curled around his neck and ears was approaching her with his hand outstretched.

He pursed his lips and crawled around the edge of the bushes in the forest clearing. Unfortunately, there was no way of getting to the man without exposing himself. He cursed his lack of luck and looked around, hoping for a stroke of genius. Gringolet grazed quietly closer to the road. The horse was extremely well trained, as were all the warhorses ridden by the knights, but Gwaine and the black stallion seemed to have an uncanny bond.

The previous year, when he and Merlin were captured by Lot's forces, Gwaine had felt bad about leaving the horse behind, but they were offered no choice in the matter if they wanted to escape. He would never admit to anyone how glad he was to see that his grandfather brought the horse with him to Snowdonia.

The stallion had been with Gwaine through some rather rough patches in the rogue's life. It wasn't too long after first meeting Merlin that the rogue's luck had started to change. A night with a beautiful lady nearly ended that streak of luck when her father suddenly came home from the tavern. A brief battle ensued that resulted in Gwaine rushing to the barn, and grabbing the first horse he found. It was wild and green, with fire in its dark brown eyes. Had he been told beforehand that the horse had yet to allow any rider; he might have chosen a different one.

As it was, however, he threw a bridle on the stallion and swung up without a second thought. Rearing wildly, the horse bolted out of the stables and carried Gwaine headlong into the night. Neither Gwaine nor Gringolet had looked back.

The black stallion raised his head, almost sensing his master's gaze. Gwaine smiled and crept around, as quickly as he could, to the other side of the glen.

(*~*~*)

Aylass was frozen, but not with fear. Her anger at the sorcerer in front of her boiled under her skin. His magic kept her from being able to move. Her eyes glanced at her sword just outside the door of the cottage. She chided herself for not keeping it on her belt, but this was her home. She had not expected to need it while gardening. More often than not, it got in the way as she gathered her harvest.

Alvarr was only a few steps away from her when a shrill whistle rang out through the forest. His head jerked up in the direction he thought it was coming from. He spun back around when the thundering of hooves approached from the opposite direction.

The large stallion, its mane flowing like a cascade of black fire rushed past and he dove out of its path. The spell holding Aylass broke. She scrambled to her feet just in time to see a man rush out of the trees, swing up on the horse, and race back towards her with his hand outstretched.

She didn't think. She had no clue as to the identity of her saviour, but she was thankful all the same, as she reached for the hand and felt herself suddenly airborne before landing on the rump of his horse, behind him.

"My sword!" She exclaimed as the horse galloped at full speed.

"Are you kidding me?" Gwaine cast a disbelieving glance over his shoulder.

"It was my mother's!"

He shook his head angrily and pulled up on Gringolet's reins. The horse whinnied in protest. "Where is it?"

"In the azalea bush next to the door."

"The things I do for women..." He flipped his hair back out of his eyes and turned the horse around. A curse escaped them both when they saw Alvarr barring their way.

"And what do we have here? A knight of Camelot, so far from home, rescuing a fair maiden..." Alvarr drew a sword from his belt and grinned wickedly at the pair.

Gwaine's licked his lips and evaluated the situation. One on one, in a battle of steel, he felt he could easily take the man. The magic the man possessed raised it to another level of difficulty. Gwaine decided he was not about to risk the life of the girl he had saved, just to placate his ego. He yanked his horse's head around and kicked his heels against the flanks. "We'll come back for it later," he grunted to the protesting blond behind him.

(*~*~*~*~*)

Lisanor sat on the edge of the bed, her knees tucked underneath her, and fiddled with the lace on the hem of the duvet. The crocheted loops that linked together to form a string of flowers along the hem were easy enough to count and she allowed her mind to get lost in the pattern. Her eyes shot up as her brother shifted, and grimaced in pain. He refused to go to either of the physicians, instead choosing to bear the injuries as a reminder of his failings.

Leon sat in a chair off to her right. Blue eyes moving back and forth as he sighed, never coming to rest on anything in particular. His hand clasped between his legs, as he slumped forward resting his elbows on his knees. She felt like she would go out of her mind if one of them didn't start speaking soon. Although being told of her brother's fate, the reality had yet to sink in for her.

"I know you're hurting, brother...but you can't take your anger out on us. I am hurting, as well! He was my brother, too, you know!"

"I need to tell Loholt." Cai stated, his sullen mood permeating the room.

"He already knows about it."

"No, about me. He deserves to know who I really am."

"Cai, you can't do that…" Leon stood up and moved towards the bed.

"If I had told Bedivere…if only I had spoken with him about it, then my brother might still be alive." His accusing glare rested on the blond knight. "I will not make the same mistake with my nephew!"

"Cai, think about what you're suggesting...about the arrangements we made for the marriage, so you and Leon could be together…" Lisanor pleaded.

He responded with determination. Cai pushed himself up with his good arm and swung his feet over the side of the bed. "We were selfish not to include him."

Tears were streaming down her face. "We were thinking of him when we decided it. We are the adults here...he is only a child, Cai! My son!"

Cai felt his temper rise and he barked out a laugh, "He is only a year younger than you were when you made him! Loholt deserves to know. He may not actually be my son...but he is more my son than anyone else's! After he was born, I was the first to hold him while the midwife cleaned you up. I was there for his first words…his first steps…his first falls. I taught him how to ride a horse, how to hold a sword, how to hunt and fish..and skin a rabbit! I gave up my life to raise him...to take care of you...and our brother!"

Lisanor was taken aback by the venomous words. She started to argue, but Cai cut her off.

"Make no mistake; I do not regret a single day of it. There is nothing I would change...save for perhaps coming to Camelot last year." He purposely avoided looking at the dejection on Leon's face. "Since then, I watched my baby brother spiral out of control and torn from my grasp." He took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

"So you really plan to tell him about us then?" Leon asked, against the lump that had formed in his throat. He was supposed to be discussing Merlin's proposition with Cai, but he could see now that Cai wouldn't be open to listening to him on any level. It seemed he was almost determined to undo the carefully constructed ruse they had devised to be together.

"I do."

Lisanor turned her back on Cai and hugged her arms around herself. She quietly moved across the room, unable to process this sudden change of heart in her eldest brother. Just days ago, they were all so happy...and now this.

"If you want us to call it off, I understand." Leon offered in an attempt to placate his friend. He glanced sorrowfully at the shock on Lisanor's face.

Cai shook his head somberly. "No. It is a good arrangement for the both of you…and for Loholt. I just...need some space, right now," he whispered in a tone that was almost civil. His knees were weak as he stood up. He gritted his teeth and stubbornly muddled through the pain.

(*~*~*~*)

His own chambers...his own bedchambers...damnit! His wife, instead of going back to her rooms, kicked the king...HE WAS THE KING...out of his own bed!

The day had been going well. Well, maybe not that well. First, Merlin arrived unexpectedly with the party from Gawant. This was Merlin he was thinking of though, so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. But then came Leon and Cai, both looking rather downtrodden as they rode into the courtyard. Arthur greeted them personally. Cai didn't say a word to anyone. He was cradling his arm as he made his way into the castle.

Leon asked if he could send Percival and a few others out as part of a search party...for Bedivere's body. Arthur granted the request without hesitation and told Leon to get cleaned up before meeting him in the council chambers. The reason for the search, he found out later, rather shocked him. Merlin's solution on the other hand, seemed brilliant. If Cai was agreeable to it, which Arthur doubted the knight wouldn't be agreeable to much for at least a few days. Leon was right, they had been treating the man as if he were a warrior with years of battle under his belt. For the most part, Cai had lived up to that assumption.

Even so, Arthur couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose a brother in such a way. They agreed, amongst Merlin, Leon, and himself, to give him some space and await the return of the search party; before they propositioned him with Merlin's idea.

When he finally went to bed that night, the king wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his wife and fall asleep with her close to him. Which had worked up until when she started becoming restless, worrying about Lisanor; The death of her friend's brother bringing up the pain of losing her own. That started a one-sided argument and now Arthur stood in the hallway outside his bedroom.

He sent a glare to the guards stationed nearby, almost daring them to flinch so he could take his frustrations out on them. He knew it was childish and would do nothing to ease the ache created by the death of a knight, nor the constant mood shifts of his wife. Running a hand through his hair and sighing, he began walking barefoot along the corridors, until he came to the gallery overlooking the courtyard.

At first he thought he was alone...until he heard a slight shuffling and a stifled sob in a darkened alcove. "Declare yourself," he called to the figure he now barely made out, huddled against the stone wall.

He saw Loholt struggle to his feet and felt a pang of sympathy for the boy.

"Sorry...my...My Lord. I thought I would be alone here."

"And so you would have been under normal circumstances." He watched Loholt shuffling his feet, uncertain if he should leave or wait for dismissal. "Come on over here."

The boy obeyed, his eyes downcast.

Clasping his hands, Arthur leaned his elbows on the opening in the wall. Rarely one to open up about his feelings, he found himself actually wanting to comfort the teenager in a way his own father had never done. "I think I was about half your age when I first met your uncles. Bedivere and I hit it off rather well, both having lost our mothers, and being nearly the same age. For a time, Bedivere and I were as close as we could be. Oh, he and I managed to get into so much trouble together. Well, more often than not, he was the one in trouble...since I was the prince and above such things." Arthur chuckled softly, remembering the days.

"I think he began to resent that as we grew older. Then of course, aside from taking the fall for me, he also had his brother ordering him around. I would accuse Cai of being a bully, and then order Bedivere around myself...because, as I said, I was the prince. I had been taught that was my right and privilege.

"Cai was like an older brother to us both, in a way. Their father was gone on missions for my father, and such. But Bedivere would take it all in, and together we would torment the servants, our tutors...and his brother."

"Was my Uncle Cai close to anyone?"

"Yes, even back then, he and Leon were close, having known each other since they were young children."

Arthur cast a sideways glance at the boy when Loholt mumbled, disgruntled.

"Something, other than losing your Uncle Bedivere, on your mind?"

Loholt shook his head.

"Are you rethinking your decision?"

The boy shrugged, "I don't know...Sire. I was told stuff by Uncle Bedivere that I didn't think was true...but now I do, and I wonder if I'd be better off changing my mind."

"What happened?"

Shaking his head again, Loholt unconsciously mimicked his father's stance.

"Would it help if I said, 'I'm the king, so therefore you must tell me?'"

Young blue eyes shot up and quickly lowered again. "Are you ordering me, Sire?"

Arthur straightened and looked Loholt over seriously. "Do I need to?"

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

Clucking his tongue and crossing his arms, Arthur looked around to be sure they were alone. "Well then, feel free to speak in hypothetical terms, if you wish."

"Let's just say I might have heard an argument...and I now think I know why my mum and Sir Leon are going to get married."

"I see...and was Sir Cai a part of this disagreement?"

Loholt gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Mmm..." the king turned back towards the courtyard. "Do you have an issue with what you heard?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will it harm anyone else, or yourself?"

"...no."

"Most marriages are arranged with the intended bride and groom never even meeting until shortly before the wedding. They don't know if they will even like each other." Arthur's face twisted, "I recall a few marriage arrangements I was barely able to escape from."

Loholt snickered.

Arthur's lips lifted into a slight smile. "Is what you overheard evil?"

"I don't think its evil like Uncle Bedivere says...or said. Just kind of gross," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, Loholt stood straighter and seemed to have a bit more confidence. "Uncle Cai always told me that everyone is different and we shouldn't judge; because that's what people did to Uncle Bedivere. Just because he didn't have a hand...or like me being a bastard...that we all had to deal with being things, but what matters is how we respond. I guess I just don't know how to respond."

"Your uncle is a wise man. He has taught you well." He could sense the boy relaxing. "I won't admit that I was...saddened to hear that you chose Sir Leon's option, because I'm the king, and king's don't admit to any emotions like that. But I can tell you, I think despite your recent revelation, you'll be able to figure out what you need to do."

(*~*~*~*)

Cai heard voices echoing from the gallery and stood silently in the shadows. He felt a surge of pride as he listened to Arthur and Loholt. It solidified his decision to explain the situation to the boy...but for now, he was willing to let Loholt have this moment with his real father. His own conversation could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

_**AN: So ends the stuff with Cai and Leon for a while...switching to a different focus for a bit. Legendary note: Gringolet was the French version of Sir Gawain's horse. **__Keincaled is the Welsh name from __Trioedd y Meirch_ (_Triads of the Horses_) I just liked the sound of Gringolet better.

_**There won't be another update for possibly a week or more as I get to go to Faerieworlds this weekend! *SCREAMS LIKE A FANGIRL AT COMICCON* Omnia is making their US debut and I really really hope I get to see them perform Morrigan live!**_

_**Anyways...please review! Let me know what you think so far. I know it's been a slow, angsty sidetrack so far, but as you've seen I really enjoy building the characters quite a bit before I get to the main climax. No idea how long this story is going to be. I have the outline of key plot turns, but I refused to try and number them this time LOL**_

_**Guest: Here ya go! Wow started Coins on Friday and Monday you hit chap 12 of Beasts?! Holy crap, you can't imagine how good it feels to have someone profess such a dedication to reading these tales!**_

_**Those of you that have stuck with this story for so long are more than amazing as well! I love you all, you lift me up when I think I'm stuck and have helped to build this journey in different ways I never would have dreamed on my own with your suggestions and encouragement.**_

_**Huge thanks (and giggling baby penguins) to Nance for her amazing editing and **__**IcarusLSU for keeping me on track with the plot flow.**_

_**See you all next week!**_


	14. Chapter 14- Lots of Gwaine

**_AN: LONG weekend, but it was AWESOME! Anyhoo, all edited by Nance. Thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter and the new favs and follows!_**

**_Without further ado... a whole chapter of Gwaine! Please leave a comment at the end and let me know if you are still enjoying this! Thanks!_**

* * *

Gringolet rolled in the soft grass of the meadow, grunting, wheezing, kicking, and thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being unburdened of all the tack.

Aylass giggled at the horse's enthusiasm. "Aren't you worried he'll run off without his bridle?"

Gwaine blew air through his lips. "Naw, he's not one to leave me stranded. Damn horse knows better."

"Please tell me you had come with news of my father?" She wasn't certain how accurate Tanith's recollection of events was, before Alvarr killed him. Yet, it seemed strange coincidence that the boy should mention her father being taken by knights from the famed city, just before one arrived to save her.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, Gwaine eyed her in confusion. "Uh...no. I was on my way to Tintagel...but Gringolet here got us lost."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Well, then I want to thank you again, Sir Gwaine, for coming to my rescue. I believe I need to be heading back home now."

"You know you won't be able to make it on foot before nightfall?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she stood up and combed her fingers through her hair; tying it back with a scrap of cloth. "That's fine. I'm used to walking." She turned down the road they recently came from and started off.

Gwaine snorted, "You don't have any supplies or anything. Perhaps I should go with ya, to protect you."

"That will be quite unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"Oh yeah, like you did with that guy back there?"

She spun on him and raised her chin defensively. "I'm sure I would have thought of something, had you not come along. My father taught me well how to deal with the likes of Alvarr. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."

"Alvarr? He's a wanted man in Camelot." He had never met the man personally, but he recalled Merlin once telling him of how the outlaw sorcerer had worked with both Mordred and Morgana to steal from the vaults; killing a few knights and then escaping from the dungeons. Since that time, there had been only an occasional encounter with the man. Gwaine thanked his lucky stars that he was one of the few who had walked...or rode like hell, to be more accurate...away with his life.

"What if he's still there?" He questioned after shooting off a quick whistle to his horse. Gringolet grunted in protest, but still moved towards his master.

"Then I will just have to be less careless. I need to find my father, and from what I had been told, he was taken to Camelot."

"I'm from Camelot," he reminded her in a snarky tone.

"Yes, but you are on your way to Tintagel...which is in the opposite direction." Her smile appeared pleasant enough, though it failed to reach her eyes. Brushing dirt off her leggings, she began walking again.

Gwaine scowled at her back. Gringolet nosed him roughly, reminding the knight he was still there, awaiting his master's command.

(*~*)

Aylass had been walking for a while already before she realized just how far away from home the frantic ride with the knight had taken her. Cursing at herself, she almost turned back, but then she heard the sound of a horse behind her. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Sir Gwaine approaching; looking far too casual atop his steed.

She huffed and the moment of her wanting to go back to him was gone. Now, she set her jaw as determination to not need a 'rescue' took over. "I told you, Tintagel is the other way."

"Yeah, but what kind of hero would I be if I let you go off on your own? Besides, I'm already late and I'll be heading back to Camelot straight afterwards."

"Are you sure you'll be able to find your way?"

Gwaine gave her a teasing 'come-hither' grin. "If you're with me, I'm sure I will."

Her nostrils flared and her sky-blue eyes narrowed.

He chuckled, "Come on, at least let me give you a ride back to your cottage. Gringolet would never forgive me if any harm came to you because I wasn't there to help."

She continued walking, purposely ignoring the knight, who seemed to enjoy blaming his horse. Said mount seemed to realize the quip and came to a halt. Gwaine pressed his heels into the sides. He tried clicking his tongue and even swatting the rump with his reins.

The horse sighed and snorted, but refused to budge.

The blond girl broke her angry facade and giggled, "I think you owe both Gringolet and me and apology, Sir Gwaine."

He returned the smile and shook his head. "Alright, I'm sorry." The horse nickered softly and suddenly broke into a trot that quickly caught up with the young woman. "Now will you at least let me give you a lift back?"

Aylass sighed as she realized he wasn't going to let up. Turning towards him, she saw him remove his foot from the stirrup and hold out his hand. Climbing up, she settled behind him and let the horse do the walking for her.

They finally neared the path to the cottage, when the horse started becoming agitated. So much so, in fact, that Gwaine and Aylass dismounted to keep from being thrown off. The next thing the humans noticed, was the smell of smoke.

Aylass's eyes widened and her voice uttered a soft protest, as she took off in a blind run through the trees towards her home.

Gwaine called to her before following, close on her heels. He nearly ran into her as he exited into the glen. The smoldering remains of the house stood before them. There was no sign of Alvarr.

Aylass moved forward and carefully began to search the remains with her eyes. She found her sword, unharmed, next to what was left of the door. The rest of the foundation of the place she used to live was still too hot to tread on.

"Come with me to Tintagel," Gwaine offered somberly. "I have a friend there who has a personal beef with Alvarr. He'll want to hear about this and he can help us take him down. Then we can go to Camelot and see to your father."

Aylass nodded and sighed. Her face stoic. Off to the side, near the garden, her basket still sat. Some of the bounty had spilled, but it was easy to recover. "At least we can have some food tonight."

(*~*~*~*~*)

Gwaine was shocked to find that, before midday, the trees began to thin as they approached the coast.

Aylass pointed off in the distance, over his shoulder. "That's Tintagel Keep there, on the cliffs above the sea. It's been years since anyone has lived there."

"And how would you know that?" He asked, not disagreeing, but curious as to where she got her information.

"My father grew up there."

"Ah, servant of the house..."

"My father was a nobleman." She snapped back sharply. Aylass was about to say more when her heart-shaped face turned sharply to the sky. An odd looking bird was circling high above the keep. Her voice sounded confused. "I've never seen a bird like that."

Gwaine followed her gaze and chuckled. "That's no bird," he said casually. "That is a dragon."

"A dragon?" She rolled her eyes. "Dragons do not exist anymore."

"That one does," he laughed. He let out another of his loud whistles.

Her heart jumped into her throat when the white figure spun in the air and began heading towards them. It grew larger as it flew towards them. Her pulse began to race, and her breath quickened in fear. Bigger and bigger, closer and closer, until she finally realized it was more massive than Gwaine's horse. She expected Gringolet to panic, as she was, and to perhaps bolt. Her arms tightened around Gwaine's waist, ready to hang on for her life.

The horse knickered what appeared to be a greeting to the oncoming dragon; and Aylass could swear she heard a girl's giggling voice as the monster flew over their heads. If she was a weaker woman, Aylass might have fainted dead away when the dragon landed nearby and made straight for them, with what could only be a smile.

"Uncle Gwaine!" The girlish voice rang out oddly. Although Aylass could tell it was a child, behind the squeal was a deep undertone of ancient power.

As the pearly white form, her scales gleaming with an ethereal shimmer, ran towards them, Gwaine threw his leg over Gringolet's neck. He landed on the ground and crouched as if ready to catch the dragon. Less than a few yards away, the large creature began to morph, and the knight was soon swinging a pale girl child up in his arms. "Heya sweetheart!" He planted a kiss on her cheek. "I need to see your father right away. Is he around?"

She shook her head, a tangled mess of white hair flying around her. "Mam saw Nana, and father flew off to be with her. Are you here to take us back to Camelot?"

"How did..." he started to ask. Gwaine laughed at himself. Of course, between Morgana's visionary powers and the little dragon's own abilities, it would make sense that Aithusa would know what was coming.

"I knew it! But Mam doesn't know yet, I haven't told her. I want it to be a surprise."

Aylass shook off her initial fear of the situation and climbed down off the horse, while she watched the knight and child interact. It was clear that the two were extremely fond of one another. The reactions of both the man and his horse gave her faith that there was nothing to be frightened of. She cleared her throat to get Gwaine's attention.

The knight had a moment of embarrassment. "Sorry, Aylass, this is Aithusa, daughter of Lord Emrys."

"Very pleased to meet you, Aithusa," she said with a smile and a curtsey.

Aithusa smiled in return. "You, too!" The dragongirl cocked her head to the side, curiously. She then giggled and writhed her way out of Gwaine's arms. Glancing at Gringolet, her pale blue eyes sparkled,"Race you!" She told the horse.

"NO!" Gwaine said firmly. Aithusa turned and looked at him in disbelief. "If you race my horse, that means Aylass and I will have to walk."

"Oh..." The girl seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"And if you fly, that's no fair," he added, surmising the direction her thoughts had taken.

Her bottom lip puckered into a pout. "I'll just go tell Mam you're coming then." Kicking dejectedly at the ground, she wandered away and transformed back into her dragon form. Without a look back, Aithusa took to the sky, heading for Tintagel.

Aylass just stood there, with her mouth gaping. Gwaine watched her out of the corner of his eye, letting her come to terms with what just transpired. Finally, she blinked, coming back to herself. "You keep some very interesting company, Sir Gwaine."

When they reached the castle, a manservant was at the gates to welcome them. "Hello, George!" The knight greeted.

"Hello to you, as well, Sir Gwaine," the mousy man said with a bow. He raised an eyebrow at the horse, while Gwaine and his passenger dismounted. "Mistress Aithusa informed us of your arrival. I assume this will be a short visit? Lord Emrys departed a few days ago."

Gwaine smiled. For the amount of times Arthur complained about the man, he appeared to be quite at home...and much less of an uptight nuisance...since he had begun to work for Merlin. "Probably," he responded, "where's Morgana at?"

A quick blink from George was the only sign of the servant's disapproval at Gwaine's lack of protocol. "The Lady Morgana is inside, awaiting your presence. Would you like me to attend to your steed?"

The knight snickered when he noted Gringolet's ears pointing backwards. He smacked the horse on the neck. "Behave," he warned, before handing the reins off. Gwaine held out his arm to Aylass and escorted her into the castle.

She glanced around in wonderment. "I always wondered what this place looked like inside..."

"Have you now?" A feminine voice questioned.

"Morgana," Gwaine beamed.

"Sir Gwaine," Morgana returned and embraced him. "Who is your friend?"

"Lady Morgana, this is Aylass. I kind of rescued her," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

The raven-haired lady pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "Welcome to Tintagel, Aylass. Do you live nearby?"

"A few leagues from here." Aylass replied pleasantly.

"I only ask, since you mentioned your curiosity."

Aylass looked around again, her eyes scanning the room where they stood in. It was rather bare, although recently cleaned...nothing like the wealthy home of privilege her father had described as his childhood home. "My father was raised in these halls."

"Really?" Morgana blinked rapidly.

Nodding, Aylass continued, "He was fostered by the Duke of Cornwall."

"Gorlois had no sons, foster or otherwise."

"No, Gorlois was my father's foster brother."

Morgana's eyebrows rose, "Oh, you mean Hoel! He only had one foster...Tristan. I remember meeting the man once. I was perhaps six or seven at the time, and my father and he were involved in an argument shortly after. I never saw him again."

Gwaine listened to the two women interact. He snorted when he realized who they must have been talking about.

"Is there something funny?" Morgana asked him.

"Well, if it's the same Tristan I know, then you met him one other time...well, you didn't."

Both women crossed their arms across their chests and viewed him with suspicious glares.

"Your father," he said, pointing at Aylass, "is in Camelot. He was brought in by a patrol the same morning that I left."

Aylass gasped, her arms falling to her sides. "He was? How is he? Why didn't you say so on the ride here?" She demanded in sharp succession.

"Alive, and the physician said he should make a full recovery."

"And how did I meet him...or not meet him?" Morgana asked, curious how these pieces fit together.

Gwaine flipped his hair back. "Let's just say...it was actually your sister that met him. When she took over Camelot with the Southrons."

Aylass's eyes shot over to the other woman. She took a step back, realizing this was possibly the same Morgana who was responsible for her mother's death. "My mother died in that battle," she spat accusingly.

The look Morgana gave the younger woman was unreadable. "A lot of people died in that battle," she deadpanned.

"I met your sister, Morgause, when I was young. She came to my father to ask him for help, as a favor to her family. My father told me it was you who lead the Southrons."

"Things are not always as they seem." Morgana stated softly. She smiled sadly as she turned back to Gwaine. Meeting her eyes, he nodded. She was thankful to know that he had long since realized the truth. Morgana knew he was one of the ones most tormented by that siege, yet he was able to separate the two parts of her, almost easier than most. She wondered if it was because he was such a dichotomy himself: the noble and the rogue.

"Come, George has been trying to teach me how to cook. You're both probably hungry and weary from your ride."

(*~*~*~*)

The sea roared beneath the rocks, crashing violently against them in an endless struggle for dominance. The cliffs held firm against the sea's onslaught, as the tide rushed in, then ebbed...only to try again.

Through the darkness, she couldn't see the raging waters below, but each flow brought a slight tremor through the stone. It was her life, a constant struggle against the walls. Tintagel was no longer her home...not without her husband beside her.

She fondled the pendant she wore and felt his warmth reach her. Taking a breath to center and ground herself, Morgana stretched out to meet him. She could almost see him beside her, translucent and ghost-like, but he was still there. Her moment was shattered when a voice broke through her meditation.

"Well, that dinner could have gone better," Gwaine laughed quietly. "I had no idea she was Tristan's daughter."

Morgana shrugged and turned to the knight. "It's not your fault." Said dinner was filled with accusatory glares and Morgana, with Gwaine's help, tried to explain to the young blond, the circumstances around Morgana's life during that time.

"Yeah, but I still feel bad."

"I'm guessing she and you will be leaving for Camelot soon."

Gwaine sniffed loudly. "It's going to be an interesting trip, that's for certain."

"Oh? You and a pretty girl, off for days in the wilderness?" Morgana smirked, "Whatever will you do?"

"See, there's one thing you need to know."

"What is that, pray tell?"

"It's not going to be just her and me. There're these blokes that your brother seems to trust...calls them Knights of the Round Table. Well, they all got together the night before I left, and were discussing things like you, and Merlin."

Morgana eyed him warily.

"It seems they all decided that since you weren't in your right mind and all, or even in control of what you were doing; that you, My Lady, should be pardoned." He handed her a parchment, folded and sealed with wax, bearing the Pendragon Crest.

Her fingers were trembling as she opened the letter. By the time she finished, her entire body was quaking. Pale green eyes looked up, imploring Gwaine to tell her that it was true. A part of her rebelled against its words, screaming that she wasn't ready, but a stronger part of her wanted to go home.

"So, it looks like you'll be joining our journey...if you want to, that is." he finished with his trademark roguish grin.

Morgana couldn't breath. She threw her arms around Gwaine's neck and cried.


	15. Chapter 15- New Roles

_**You guys are awesome! (just thought I'd tell ya!) Every review (I think I responded to you all), every new favorite alert, each follow alert, and almost 5k views for this part alone makes my heart soar! *air kisses***_

_**Frankie: Thank you so much! Yeah, one of the great things about this site is being able to submit guest reviews. I'm so glad you are enjoying this series and hope you continue to do so in the future!**_

_**Nance: as always your reviews and your editing ability are so amazing! I wonder how I ever passed English back in school without you! LOL**_

_**First section is backing up in time just a bit to cover a missed opportunity. Otherwise there is some forward movement and setups for the future in this chapter, but also some fluff...especially at the end of it that I think you will all get a kick out of.**_

_**I have a surprise cross-over sneaking into the next chapter that I think you will all enjoy, even if you don't know the reference. As well as some George for his fans, but **__**that chapter will be up by Saturday or Sunday...for now, let's dive back in and get this story moving!**_

* * *

He watched the roof cave in as the trusses and support beams crumbled under the assault of the flames. He turned away, confident that Tristan would receive his message.

Alvarr walked back to his gang, who waited nearly half a league away. Enmyria stood as he approached. She could see the darkness in her lover's eyes. It had been many years since they were seriously involved. Now it was only an occasional nightly comfort when he couldn't find another to warm his bedroll. Ever since he had used Morgana, they had grown steadily apart. She knew he coveted the raven-haired woman.

He had tried to approach her after she left Camelot and came into her own power. The first time, Morgana's priestess sister and her lover King Cenred, sent Alvarr scurrying away with his tail between his legs. The fact he got away with his life, was a miracle unto itself.

Years later, after the deaths of both Cenred and Morgause, he tried again to reach Morgana. She was mad by then, and completely different from the girl she had been. He joined her for a while as a sorcerer for her army, but she rebuked him and sent him on his way. She had no use for a has-been thief with a little magic. Mordred still came to visit on occasion, but now even the boy was dead. It was Alvarr who had gotten him work with the slave traders in the first place...and how was he repaid? Mordred joined Camelot...even against Morgana.

...Or so everyone thought.

In the end, the story told of how he nearly killed Arthur with his treachery. It was Alvarr, once again, who helped the young man find the giant that would give him the means to kill the king. He never heard from Mordred again. Rumor had it he died in the battle, at the hand of the king.

Alvarr didn't even glance at Enmyria as he called to those gathered, and mounted his horse. "I don't have the map, but once we reach the area, we should have tracks. Let's move out."

"Where's Tristan...or his daughter?" She asked, her voice heavy with disdain.

"It appears Tristan found his way into the custody of Camelotian forces. His daughter was then conveniently rescued by one... why didn't you alert me somehow that there was a knight on his way?" He asked, accusingly.

"He never passed us, or any of our sentries."

"What, did he just come out of the marsh and forest?"

"Probably."

Alvarr cursed, "Well, once we reach the tunnels, near the borders of Essetir, we should be able to follow the trail of the knights through the passage. We'll take the temple." Almost an afterthought he added, "...and the treasure."

(*~*~*~*)

Tristan stared stoically at the charred remains. The lump in his throat constricted his breath. This was his fault; his family was now completely destroyed. Aylass had warned him of the bad feeling she got when she met Alvarr, but he was a fool and didn't listen. Now, he paid the price for his arrogance.

Merlin and a few of Camelot's finest stood over to the side discussing the situation. Once Arthur relayed the information Tristan had given him concerning the sorcerer, and his nefarious plot for treasure, Merlin was more than willing to accompany the smuggler. After the name was revealed, the warlock knew, without a doubt, the identity of the man who assaulted his mother.

With Lancelot and a handful of other knights, they set out on a mission to find Alvarr. Their first stop was Tristan's home to try and find his daughter. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, it appeared they were too late. The cottage had been razed, with one blackened, unidentifiable body laid amongst the ashes.

The blond smuggler felt someone come up behind him. "Tristan," Merlin's voice said quietly.

"Don't ask me if I'm fine. You can guess for yourself what the answer would be," he snapped out.

"I wasn't. I was only going to suggest that you turn around."

Gray-blue eyes rose angrily at the former servant. Tristan felt a need to lash out, when he saw the hint of a smirk on the other's face. Glancing over to where Merlin was pointing, all thoughts of rage fled his mind. His face flooded with relief.

Coming through the trees was a group of five horses and riders. In the lead, as she jumped off her horse and ran to greet him, was his only daughter...safe...and alive.

Tristan's focus was mostly on his daughter, but his attention shifted when he saw Morgana. At first he stiffened, recalling how it was she who had lead Helios and the Southron troops in Camelot. He almost went to confront her when he noticed Merlin moving straight for the witch.

She smiled, joy lighting her features, as Merlin reached for her and lifted her off the horse. The couple gazed at each other passionately. Tristan saw them speaking. Merlin asked her a question, and the answer was a nod and a laugh. The warlock swept her up in his arms and spun her around. When they stopped, their eyes met. The smuggler turned away as the couple began to kiss.

He wiped a tear from his eye and looked down at his daughter, who was eyeing him curiously. Shaking his head, Tristan explained simply, "What I see there, reminds me of how much your mother and I cared for one another."

"Sir Gwaine said she's not the same person she was, and after meeting her, I'm inclined to believe him. If not for him, Alvarr would have taken me."

Tristan nodded thoughtfully at both pieces of information. He then turned to Gwaine and held out his hand. "I owe you more than I can ever repay."

"It's nothing." The knight brushed off the praise casually.

"Sadly, most of my worldly goods are no longer in my possession. However, if there is something you want...anything...all you have to do is name it."

Morgana and Merlin had come up to them and the raven-haired woman smirked, "Don't say that, he'll probably ask to court your daughter."

Tristan's expression of gratitude quickly became a protective glare.

Gwaine flinched and turned towards Morgana, offering her a scowl of his own.

Aylass simply rolled her eyes and slapped her father's arm. The knights around them all were attempting to contain various levels of snickering and chuckles. Sighing, the blond girl pushed away from her father and brought them all back to the present. "We need to give Tanith a proper burial."

(*~*~*~*)

They sat around that evening in quiet contemplation, discussing their next move.

"I just can't figure out what he would want with an old neck piece and an ancient tomb." Merlin said, tossing a stick onto the fire.

Tristan shook his head. "He spoke of treasure in the tomb. I had a map, but it was lost after my men and I found the place."

"Well, thanks to Bran and Cai, we know where it is, and how to get there...but there is something more to it. I need to find out what it is."

Gwaine, who had been surprisingly quiet since arriving with George and the girls, finally spoke up. "Where did your mother get the torc?"

"She said my father gave it to her."

"Have you checked the cave you told me about, where you met him?" Lancelot asked.

Merlin shook his head. "I went back there a few years ago, and there really wasn't anything left."

"If I may suggest," Lancelot offered, "let's head back to Camelot and see if Bran, or perhaps Cai if he's feeling up to it, can lead a patrol there."

"What happened with Cai?" Gwaine asked, curiously. From the looks on the faces of those around him, he surmised that it was not good news.

(*~*~*~*)

Morgana sat atop her horse, on the hill overlooking the citadel. She debated with herself briefly about changing her hair color. Those around her appeared not only to accept her, aside from the occasional glance of suspicion from Tristan, but to be willing to protect her as well. Merlin came up beside her and put his hand on hers, giving her fingers a light squeeze for support.

Aithusa giggled from the back of Gringolet, while Gwaine continued to chat up Aylass, much to her father's chagrin. The young dragon girl was ecstatic about seeing her friends, especially Galahad, again. She glanced over at her mam with a smile. "It'll be hard for some, but others will help them to see...and you'll like Alice."

Merlin shook his head and laughed. The most amazing thing about his daughter was her ability to say just the right thing at the right time...even if they rarely understood the significance of the words until later. "She's right, I think you will like Alice. There's a lot she can teach you."

"I'm sure she can. It's not her I'm worried about."

"We'll just take it one day at a time, my love."

Morgana nodded and returned the gentle pressure of his fingers, before pulling the cowl of her cloak down over her face.

As they rode through the gates, people of the town stopped and stared at the party silently. Although unable to see her face, gossip spread like wildfire, and most were curious about the return of Morgana.

A young man, near the same age as Loholt, darted forward through the crowd, his arm cocked back with a piece of overly-ripe fruit. Merlin's eyes glowed as it came sailing towards them; hurled along with a shouted curse towards Morgana.

The offending fruit never touched her. Instead, it went flying back towards the boy, catching him square in the face. Others in the crowd gasped in shock.

Merlin lowered his hand and pulled his horse up. He stared around at the crowd. "By order of the King, the Lady Morgana is to be pardoned, as many already know. You would do well to respect his reasoning and purpose for this decision, lest you find yourself in the stocks, or worse."

The crowd seemed to back off with a mixture of awe and fear on their faces. The group of riders continued on towards the castle.

Gwaine pulled up alongside Merlin and snickered, "You realize that was the first time you've spoken like a noble, and used your magic in public...other than in the heat of battle."

Fear spilled into Merlin's eyes at the revelation. "Oh..."

"Hold it together, my friend, they're still watching." He patted Merlin's shoulder in a supportive gesture.

"Shut up, Gwaine." Merlin bit out through clenched teeth. All attempts to keep his face neutral disappeared once they made it to the main courtyard.

Arthur stood on the steps to greet them, a strained look on his face. "Glad you are all back, we need to have a meeting of the Round Table as soon as you all get cleaned up."

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

The king shook his head. "We received a herald from the garrison to the northeast," he explained, walking into the castle. "Unless we can come up with a solution, we may find ourselves caught up in a war with Mercia."

(*~*~*~*)

The meeting went as well as could be expected, Merlin supposed. King Bayard had begun raising taxes...a standard practice when preparing for a war. However, that was not the worst of the news concerning the kingdom of Mercia. An estrangement between King Gaheris of Lothian and Bayard gave a clearer sign of the Mercian king's intentions. Holding a closer allegiance to Lothian than Mercia, was putting Camelot in a precarious position.

Holding a mindset similar to Uther's concerning magic, Bayard was also cracking down on magical practices in his kingdom. Although not on the same level as Uther's Purge yet, the reports were disheartening. He was blaming Camelot for an increase of magical occurrences.

From the scattered rumors, it appeared that incidents like the grindylow that attacked Galahad, were plaguing the Mercian kingdom.

Much to Merlin and Tristan's displeasure, finding Alvarr was pushed to the background.

"But what if it's whatever he found in this tomb that is causing these creatures of the old religion to come forth?" Merlin argued.

"The sightings began before this," Arthur stated adamantly.

"No, they didn't," Tristan corrected, rolling his eyes. "From the sound of it, it started when I entered the dolmen and the storm began."

Arthur looked at Cai and Bran. "You both assured me the storm had ceased."

"It had, when Bran put the stone back in place." Cai shrugged, unable to confirm any more than that.

"Then we can't jump to conclusions."

Bran stood up. "I would like to request a few men to accompany me back to the area to check it out at least."

"I'm sorry Bran, but with Camelot preparing for war, I cannot grant your request."

"I'll go with you," Tristan said. He turned to Arthur. "I'm not one of your knights, so you can't order me to stay."

"Arthur," Guinevere interrupted softly, "perhaps we can spare a few men."

"At this moment, if any from Camelot are caught inside Mercian borders, I fear not only for their safety, but also that it would be seen as the catalyst Bayard needs."

"Then we will go through Essetir, to the tunnels, and completely avoid Mercia."

The king paused to consider it. He glanced at Merlin. He knew the warlock wanted vengeance for his mother, but what he read in his friend's eyes gave Arthur comfort. The kingdom was more important than Merlin's personal grievance. "Very well, I will give you a small contingent of armed men for you to command, Prince Bran. Send word back immediately if you discover anything."

The meeting concluded not long after that, as all there remained was speculation. Gwaine was feeling rather ragged as he left. One night of rest before he and Percival were off to Lothian; to find out from his uncle the state of affairs between Gaheris and Bayard. He smiled when he saw Aylass. Starting over towards her, he stopped when her father approached her and took her elbow.

She cast a glance at Gwaine and offered a small apologetic smile, before turning to walk with Tristan. Gwaine sighed, there would be plenty of time to woo her later. For the moment, he had to go with Percival and meet his sister for dinner, when they would break it to her that they were both leaving the next day. It was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

(*~*~*~*)

Percival's eyes were the size of saucers. Gwaine was sputtering, trying his best not to choke on his wine. Clarissant was sitting expectantly across from her husband at the small harvest table, in the house that used to belong to the queen. "Aren't you going to say something?" She asked.

Percival's mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally blinked, and looked to Gwaine for support.

The rogue knight nearly fell out of his chair laughing, "Oh, come on, you should have at least entertained the idea!"

Percival's face fell as he realized he actually hadn't even thought of the possibility. It was not something that crossed his mind, although in hindsight, Gwaine was correct. He should have seen this coming. "Are you sure?"

"Well, no. We won't be until I give birth, but Lady Vivienne has been a midwife for many years. I believe her and the reasoning behind it." Clarissant explained.

"I can't leave then. What if something happened while I was..."

"Nonsense. It's as safe, or safer, than any other mission you could be sent on right now. I would much prefer knowing that you and my brother are just carrying a message to our uncle, than out actually patrolling the north eastern border...or worse."

"But the...baby...babies?" Percival looked like he was going to faint.

Gwaine picked up the larger knight's cup, placed it in his hand and encouraged Percival to take a drink. "Really, my friend, you should have known it was a possibility. Twins do run on our father's side of the family."


	16. Chapter 16- Dresses and Discoveries

_**YIPPEEE! So, over on theheartofcamelot site, they just concluded their fanfic awards. The first piece "Two Sides of the Coin" (you know the *cough* oneshot I supposedly wrote that mutated?) Just won BEST DIALOGUE! Happy dance! **_

_**And now for some George and some fun... and as always there is some forward movement in the plot, although it may seem rather minor hehe. I really, really, really had fun with this chapter! Thanks as always to Nance for her expert beta reading. Also, a shout out to CaptainOzone from HoC chat room for encouraging the last section of this story, which technically contains a cross-over character, but it's not necessary to know the reference to enjoy the character.**_

_**And for everyone else, thank you! Your reviews always make my day brighter! *air kisses***_

* * *

"Is everything alright, My Lady?" George asked as he puttered about the room.

Morgana looked over at him and smiled, "Yes, everything is fine. Thank you, George."

His eyes shifted slightly, the only indication that he didn't quite believe her. Yet, being the proper servant he was, he let it be. "Mistress Aithusa seems quite happy to be back in the city."

She barked out a laugh. "I think she was made for it."

"It will be quite nice to not have to play 'head and seek' with her, this time around." He clucked his tongue. "Did Lord Emrys explain her antics over the winter?"

"He did." She nodded and turned back towards the window. Their arrival in Camelot earlier in the day went better than she had expected, due to Merlin's interference with the one brave...or stupid...man who chanced to throw something at her in front of a bunch of knights. She couldn't help but wonder, as she looked out over the town, just how much the people down below must hate her. Morgana didn't blame them, but she found herself anxious about what might happen if she ventured out of the castle proper without an armed escort.

She knew she could protect herself, with her magic, but with the new laws being less than a year old, people were still adjusting. Overhearing Gwaine teasing Merlin, about it being his first time to use his power in public, only added to her apprehension.

Vivienne was the first to greet her when she entered the ornate doors of the entrance hall. She asked Morgana about Tintagel, and the younger woman responded truthfully. She had missed the sea, but it was harder than she had imagined it would be, to return to her childhood home. It was nothing more than an empty shell, slowly being eaten away by time and neglect.

She had yet to see Gwen, as the queen was in attendance at the meeting. Clarissant now lived in Gwen's house in the Lower Town and was being told to take it easy with her pregnancy. Vivienne confided in her daughter that she suspected the woman was carrying twins, and due to Clarissant's previous experiences of not carrying a child to term, she was not allowed to overexert herself. The midwife had encouraged her to move into the castle, to no avail. Morgana promised she would make a trip soon to talk some sense into her friend.

After that, Vivienne was called away to attend to another woman in the beginning signs of labor. She asked if Morgana wanted to accompany her, but the younger woman was so exhausted from the emotional effort of her arrival, she declined.

The instant Aithusa spotted Haddy, the two children ran off to play. Lisanor came to say hello, but her prattle about her upcoming wedding had bored Morgana nearly to tears. She could tell Lisanor was only trying to be friendly, and Morgana appreciated the gesture. George became her saving grace, interrupting the bride-to-be and requesting Morgana's presence in arranging the room she was to share with her husband.

"Would you like me to begin to set up interviews with potential maids for you?"

Morgana's nose crinkled in amusement. "I haven't had a maid in years. Why would I need one now?" Seeing the slight confusion in his eyes, she decided to have a bit of fun. "I have you after all."

His lips twitched slightly and his eyebrows rose. He looked as if he was going to reply, but properly held his tongue and nodded.

"Out with it, George," she ordered, teasingly.

He cleared his throat. "I am uncertain, My Lady, if that was a compliment or something else entirely."

"Hmm," she said, drawing out her answer. "You're probably right, I am used to my former maid wearing a dress. However, you are so petite, I'm sure we could find one to fit you." Her face gave no indication if she was joking.

The servant smiled politely, although Morgana could sense he was ruffled. "Indeed, My Lady."

Merlin chose that moment to enter the room, thus saving the manservant from any further embarrassment. His eyes darted between his wife and George, before he simply shook his head. He figured that he would rather not know what they had been discussing. Instead, he walked to Morgana. "Arthur and Gwen would like us to dine with them tonight, if you're feeling up to it."

"Sure," she responded. "I can't wait to see Gwen. I want to ask if she still has any of her old dresses."

Merlin was caught completely off-guard by the unchecked squeak that came from George. His eyes drifted over to the servant. Slowly, he looked back to Morgana. "Please, tell me you are not planning what I think you are?"

Morgana's hand covered her mock gasp of shock. "Why would you think I was planning anything?"

"George," Merlin asked, "are you certain you don't want to go back and work for Arthur? It might be the safer choice at this point."

(*~*~*~*)

"Ah, George, I heard you were back." The plump, redhead laundry maid smirked, "So, do tell...is the Lady Morgana just faking it all, or do you think she has really changed?"

Had it been proper, George might have rolled his eyes, but as it wasn't, he refrained from doing so. "She is as dear of heart as she was when she was a young lady. None of us need to fear her," he answered with a politely defensive tone.

"Are you certain she just hasn't enthralled you...and Merlin?" Another maid with dull blond hair questioned.

"Lord Emrys," he corrected, "is enchanted by her beauty and her love, as he should be...being her husband."

The two women snorted and cackled, "Did you hear what he did to the weaver's boy?"

"Magically sent a rotten tomato straight at him, for no reason other than speaking his mind!"

"And to think, he used to be one of us."

George began sorting the cloth in his basket, purposely ignoring the gossiping hens. A strange shape caught his eye under the table. He bent and picked it up, holding it out as if it might bite him. He grimaced in disgust as he eyed the shed snake skin, and thought briefly about berating the women for allowing a serpent in their domain long enough for it to shed. Though, after overhearing another clip of their conversation, the servant stowed the thing away in his basket. It would do no good to give them more fuel for the fire.

He was certain they would somehow turn it into a curse brought on by Merlin's magic, or Morgana's return, instead of pointing the finger at their own lack of cleanliness. After arranging the clothing on the bench for the two women to begin working on, he took his basket, with the skin inside, and politely bade them farewell.

On his way out, he nodded cordially to another servant entering the room.

"Sir Vortimer is wondering if his tunic is ready. He's being ordered to ride out in two days with Prince Bran's party. He complained of it stinking like snake piss."

The redhead cackled again. "Well, he needs to quit wearing it then."

"Or take a bath," the blond snorted.

George glanced down at his find, and hummed to himself thinking: Sir Vortimer could probably do well with a lesson in keeping his belongings better secured out in the wilderness.

(*~*~*~*)

Everything in Camelot bustled along as the first harvest neared. Aithusa and Haddy raced through across the training field, skillfully...or miraculously...avoiding running into anything. Their fathers leaned on some railings nearby, watching.

"How are you adjusting to things, my friend?" Merlin asked his companion.

Lancelot glanced over and said, "Better than I expected. Who would have thought, this is where we would end up. Nobles, both of us, in Camelot, serving under Arthur...with children."

Merlin grinned, "I always thought you would be...I wish I had known about your heritage years ago. It might have kept you from being banished."

"Ah, but then I would not have met Percival, or Galahad's mother."

"Does she know you're alive yet?"

Lancelot shrugged, "Doubtful, she was a pleasant enough woman at the time, but I think it's for the best if I stay out of her life. I actually wanted to ask you about someone..."

Merlin's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"What do you know about Princess Mithian of Nemeth?"

"Well, she's quite good with a crossbow," the warlock chuckled, "however, I think you already guessed that from when she saved Haddy."

"Fair enough, what I mean is...is she betrothed to anyone, or otherwise engaged?" Since their meeting in the marsh, the brunette princess had occupied much of Lancelot's thoughts.

"She was once, but it fell through. It was some political arrangement with a prat."

"I heard that, Merlin!" Arthur called out from where he was practicing nearby with Gilli.

"Did you, My Lord? Sorry," He responded in a rather unapologetic tone.

Lancelot smiled at the familiar banter between his friends. "She said the land of Gedref now belongs to Nemeth. I don't suppose that had anything to do with it?"

"Well, you see..." Merlin went on to tell the story of when he first met Mithian, just a few short months after Lancelot's shade was put to rest. "Then, over a year ago, she came to Camelot asking for help. Her father had been taken by Odin and Morgana in a ruse to draw out Arthur."

"And that is where this idiot was finally discovered." The king said, taking a break from beating on his servant to join them.

"Arthur, what are you thinking?"

"Who said I'm thinking anything?"

"I know that look on your face...it can only mean trouble."

"Nonsense! I was simply realizing that I need to make certain the invitation to the tournament for Sir Leon's wedding was sent out to Nemeth." Arthur smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Lancelot.

Merlin and Lancelot glanced at each other before simultaneously laughing. Merlin knew Arthur, despite all his protests, still held a touch of anxiety around the other man, though Lancelot had no memory of his time as a shade. He could see the gears turning in the king's mind as he began to arrange the setup.

Excusing himself from the awkwardness of the situation, Merlin motioned to Cai across the practice field. It was time for a different type of training to begin for the knight.

(*~*~*~*)

"The library, huh?"

"Yes, the library."

For the last few days, Cai had been following Merlin around, attempting to learn more about his magic. Although he was thankful for the opportunity to avoid Leon for the moment, he found himself becoming increasingly frustrated at his tutor. Merlin, for the most part, had no idea how he did what he did, and on a few occasions when Morgana witnessed the lessons, she was rolling with laughter at her husband.

Merlin blamed his inability to teach on the lack of a dedicated space, causing his concentration to waver; while Morgana blamed it on his odd pronunciation of the words and seemingly random hand gestures.

"Have you received permission from Geoffrey to use his sacred space?" Cai joked.

"Not exactly, but Arthur said I could use any place I found, that I felt was appropriate for your training. I also need to be able to work with Gilli more, as well."

"I see." Cai snickered as Merlin cautiously entered the Hall of Records. Not seeing Geoffrey, the infinitely powerful warlock snuck through like a common thief, and motioned Cai to follow. Down a corridor of the east wing, Cai almost questioned the apparent dead end when Merlin stepped up to a bookshelf...smiled gleefully and stepped on one of the lower shelves. The wall spun and Cai watched the man disappear. As it came back around, Merlin was gone. He laughed outright, but quickly covered his mouth when he heard Geoffrey call out.

Cai jumped up onto the bookshelf as he heard footsteps approaching. He disappeared just before Geoffrey reached the corridor.

Stepping off the shelf into a large room, Cai looked around. Faint light streamed in from glass windows set high against one wall. The rest of the walls were covered with shelves, filled to the brim with materials and books that appeared very ominous and rather mystical in nature. Set slightly off from the center was a desk. Cai reached for something on it, to have a closer look when Merlin called out.

"Don't! I have no idea what most of this stuff is," Merlin warned.

"And how are we supposed to find out if we don't touch it?"

"Um... good question. However, last time I was down here..." Merlin's voice trailed off.

"What happened?"

"Uh…well, there was a box..."

Suddenly, the secret wall swung around again and Arthur stepped into the room. Merlin's jaw hit the floor. "What box, Merlin?"

"No box. None at all. Don't know what you're talking about. Hey, how did you find this place?" He asked, trying to take the focus off himself.

"This is my castle Merlin. I know where most of the hidden rooms and passages are. I grew up here."

"Yes…but in the library?" He knew how much the king abhorred all the books and dust.

"Coincidentally enough, Bedivere and I found this when were about ten and trying to escape our studies."

Cai grinned sadly. It was good to hear a memory of his brother that did not involve violence or a bad attitude. He looked around. "Is this the room where you found the bird?"

"What bird?" Merlin asked.

Arthur's eyes widened. "I had completely forgot about that! Your brother told you about it?"

"He told me he had a secret and I threatened it out of him." At Arthur and Merlin's questioning looks, he explained, "I was thirteen!"

Arthur turned and started down between two stacks of shelves. Near the end, in a heap of fallen debris, he started to dig. The sound of whistles and whirring began to erupt from the pile. Merlin stood behind Arthur, curious.

"Ah ha! There you are," Arthur exclaimed. He pulled out what looked to be a metal owl. One of its odd glass and metal eyes hung halfway out of the socket. The feathers of a wing were bent awkwardly. It tried to flap and pull away from the king, who was holding it rather awkwardly.

Merlin chortled and reached for the owl, as it let loose with a cacophony of sounds. "Well ,you should be thanking him, not berating him. He is the one who found you." Merlin appeared to listen to the owl as it continued its loud protests. "Well of course it's been years, but it would have been even longer if...

"No, no, I get that, but you have to understand magic was illegal...well of course your magical, how else can you...alright fine, we'll talk about this later then."

Cai and Arthur were standing side by side, their arms crossed over their chests and watching Merlin with amusement. "What?"

"You can understand all those sounds?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. Can't you? He said he talked to you the last time he saw you."

"Merlin, I was, like, ten and thought I was imagining things."

"He is rather upset with you, because you promised to come and retrieve him."

Arthur's face twitched in annoyance. "You're telling me that thing actually speaks? It wasn't my imagination?"

Cai snickered behind his hand and tried to hide it with a cough. He remembered getting rather upset with his brother when Bedivere came home with a story of a metal owl in a secret room filled with magic. To be honest, he never really believed Bedivere, figuring it was some prank pressed upon him by Arthur. He had berated his little brother, and warned him about even joking around concerning magical items. Cai had to wonder how much of what Bedivere told him over the years might have been real.

"Well, let me see if I can find it," Merlin said to the owl.

"What are you looking for?" Arthur asked.

"It's missing a few pieces that look like bronze quills…of course, I know they resembled feathers, but...

"Yes, I understand that, true feathers are made from...

"Oh don't you start correcting me! I trained with a physician for nearly ten years. I understand the anatomy of more than just humans."

Arthur snickered and patted Cai on the shoulder in a gesture of good luck before leaving the two magic users to deal with the owl.

The night before, Merlin was going on at dinner about how his chambers were just not appropriate. He needed a dedicated workspace. Gwen suggested one of the unoccupied rooms near the library. The gleam of delight that took hold of the warlock's eyes did not go unnoticed by the king. As well as wanting to discover any progress with Cai's training, Arthur was on a mission to find the secret room from his childhood, and perhaps surprise Merlin with it. It put him off to see the raven-haired man already heading towards it as Arthur entered the library.

Geoffrey caught sight of the king and it took some quick thinking to send the record keeper off in a different direction before Arthur was able to sneak in himself. On his way out, he made certain to let Geoffrey know about the space. He was irritated to find out that the old man already knew of it as well.

"I think I'm going to have to take you to Gwen...she's the queen..." Merlin explained to the owl after Arthur departed.

"Yes, someone actually married him. She was a blacksmith's daughter...Hephaestus... no I don't think I know that name, her father's name was Tom."

"Hephaestus was the Greek's god of blacksmithing and crafters," Cai supplied, only half listening to the odd conversation.

"That's who Bubo says he was created by."

"Bubo?" Despite Merlin's earlier protests, Cai began to cautiously pick up things around the room and organizing them. "Interesting, I'll have to see if I can find the book where I read about him. However," he said, looking around, "you may have a version of it in here somewhere. Are you going to tell me about that box?"

"Oh, it was nothing…just a goblin.*" Merlin was fascinated with his new friend and finding all the bits and pieces that had broken off. He paid no more attention to Cai, nor did he elaborate on the story.

(*~*~*~*)

_*reference to "Goblin's Gold" episode of Merlin._

_AN: Ok so those familiar with the 1981* version of "Clash of Titans" realize I snuck in a bit of a cross-over into the story...again. I couldn't help myself, REALLY! Other Merlin's have pets, and I had a request to give my Merlin one. Among the ideas was stealing from the Disney version of "Sword in the Stone" and giving him an owl named Archimedes. Well, that was just too simple of a solution for me, also it didn't quite fit with my Merlin (plus I've seen it in at least 3 other stories)... but then I was watching the new "Wrath of the Titans" and got bored with it...and got to thinking... BUBO! (so, in case you didn't know...I don't own Bubo :-( and still don't own Merlin...or Gwaine...I do own Cai though! MUWHAHAHA)_

_I may try and make a short story of how Bubo managed to go from Ancient Greece to Camelot at some point. hehe_

_Also: Amusing little tid-bit...the actor who plays George is the same as the pre-transformed Captain America! I was dying of laughter when I discovered that! (no sadly it wasn't his face, but he was the body portion of young skinny Steve. 5' 7" and 98lbs)_

_*edited because I got the year wrong before._


	17. Chapter 17- Glittering Gold

"...but what's it do?" Aithusa asked. She poked again at the odd bird sitting on the desk. The thing stood no more than a foot tall. It appeared to be an owl, but it was made of metal. The overlapping scale shaped feathers on it's breast were almost a silvery color, as were the main parts of it's eyes and a bit more around the bright golden beak. The wings, back, tail, and majority of the head appeared to be polished gold.

Large round eyes stared back at Aithusa. The center pupils glowed an unnatural red color. She poked it again and the bird-thing blinked, before taking a step back. The cylindrical legs and feet, with overlapping joints, were almost more unnatural than the bird's eyes. A plethora of rattling and whizzing sounds, accompanied by what could only have been a whistle of admonition, startled the young dragon girl.

She, in turn, took a step back, eyeing the artificial creature with suspicion.

Morgana and Merlin glanced at each other over their supper at the table, debating on whether to laugh or chastise their daughter, when she began growling at Bubo. "Aithusa, I think you just need to leave the poor thing alone. Bubo was trapped in the room where I found him, for centuries..."

A few small hoots and whistles came from the owl. His head turned completely around to look at Merlin, behind him.

Aithusa's growl deepened. According to Merlin, the owl was older than the city of Camelot and had come from a place far across the sea. At this point, she didn't care where it came from, she didn't like it.

"Sorry, yes, I was exaggerating. He was in that specific room for decades, but previously kept in the vaults for centuries." He explained, rolling his eyes. "Is that better?" He asked the owl, who hooted happily.

"But what's it supposed to do?" The girl asked again. She circled the desk and poked at the owl again.

Morgana sighed, "Aithusa, please just leave your father's new toy alone, and come finish your supper."

Merlin appeared hurt. "He's not a toy, Morgana."

Her nose crinkled and she laughed in a soft, patronizing tone. "Of course it isn't."

(*~*~*~*~*)

"Enough is enough, Gwaine," Percival growled. They should have been back in Camelot by now after their meeting with Gaheris. Instead, they somehow managed to get lost, and the large man was anxious to be back home with his wife.

He knew, from his own travels, that it wasn't Gwaine's fault they were so far off course. It baffled him as to the actual cause, but they recently discovered a road marker that pointed them back towards their destination. Unfortunately, his friend's pranks were getting a bit out of control.

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about, this time. Honestly!" Gwaine protested.

Percival glared, "This is not how I set up my bed roll. If you put something in there..."

"I haven't touched it!"

"Then who did?"

"What was that?" Gwaine said, suddenly distracted.

"Don't you try to..." Percival was cut off abruptly, when his friend raised his hand and silenced him.

Gwaine's hand drifted towards the hilt of his sword...and paused. His eyes shifted back and forth, while he tried to locate the sound he heard. In a frantic dive, he lunged towards his own bedroll. They hadn't noticed, until that moment, that something appeared to be moving underneath it.

Squeals and squeaks erupted from the roughspun blanket, as Gwaine gathered it up like a makeshift bag. Something inside was cursing in a loud, high-pitched voice. Gwaine fought against it as the creature writhed within the cloth.

A ripping sound preceded the blanket being cut open.

The two men could only watch as a small human-like creature, wearing the skins of a rat, fell out. He tumbled to the ground before jumping up and rushing Gwaine. The little man stabbed his needle like sword through the top of the knight's boot.

Gwaine let out with a yelp of pain and lunged for the little man, who merely laughed and made a rude gesture, before disappearing off into the trees. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Percival couldn't help but chuckle at Gwaine, who was currently trying to extract his now injured foot from his boot. "That was something I have not seen for many years."

"Care to elaborate?"

"It was a brownie, a type of fairy that helps to organize things around the house. They disappeared, along with many other creatures, during the years after the Purge."

Gwaine had finally freed his foot and was peeling off his sock. "Well, maybe there was something good with the Purge after all..." He turned and yelled out into the forest. "...a way to get rid of pipsqueaks like that!"

The large knight simply laughed, "At least I know who reorganized my stuff now."

(*~*~*~*~*)

"I think your faith in my potential is misplaced," Cai huffed, and slumped into a chair.

"I don't understand. You have it in you." Merlin was desperately trying to find the spark he knew was in his friend. "Maybe it's just too soon, after what happened with your brother."

Green eyes glared at Merlin. Cai pushed himself out of the chair. "I'm going to go get my sword and armor, then head to the practice field."

"Are you going to participate in the tournament?" Merlin asked.

The knight paused at the door to the semi-secret office Merlin had taken over as his own. "Lisanor wants me to, but I've never been big on showing off...or getting shown up."

"You are your own worst critic. You do realize that?" The warlock levelled a meaningful gaze on his friend. "You could probably take out most of the knights who will be participating, if you put your mind to it."

Cai shrugged, "But the day is not mine. This is a celebration for my sister and Leon. I will step back, gladly, and let them be happy."

"It's not just a day for them. It's supposed to be a chance for you to be happy, as well. Have you even spoken with him?"

"Briefly...mostly concerning the wedding and Loholt." He leaned his forehead against the false wall, and closed his eyes. "I'm just not ready yet."

Merlin sighed. He hated seeing his friend's life in such shambles. "Some of the druids are coming in for the celebrations...maybe we can speak to them about your training with magic."

Nodding, Cai placed his foot on the trigger shelf and let the wall turn, carrying him out of the room.

A series of concerned chirps and whistles erupted once he was gone. Merlin turned to look at the owl perched nearby.

"Yeah, me too, Bubo." The warlock stood and began puttering around his space. "I should take you to Wygar today. I think he may have your last tailfeather ready." Merlin held his arm out for the clockwork owl and together they headed off towards the forge. After years of dissension it was a pleasant change to be allowed into the blacksmith's domain, once again.

(*~*)

_Gwen unconsciously rubbed her hands over her growing belly. She stared at the thing on the table in front of her. "Merlin," she started, "I wouldn't begin to imagine how to put this owl back together."_

_"Do you have any idea who might?"_

_"Have you checked with Wygar? He is the castle blacksmith."_

_Merlin's face contorted as if he was in pain. "I don't think he's quite forgiven me yet."_

_"For what?"_

_His eyes shifted back and forth. "Um...nothing?"_

_"Merlin," she warned, although she couldn't hide her amusement. She had been learning so much more about her friend in the past year than she ever dreamed. Before, he was a great friend and confidant, but always seemed rather simple...no, she thought, not simple. Merlin was anything but. Perhaps 'reserved' was the word she was searching for. With no reason to hide the largest part of who he was, he had blossomed into a true brother for the queen._

_"Oh, I was just being my klutzy self more than a few years back...before he was named as Lead Smith. He was working on a piece for Uther, which he was calling his greatest accomplishment, and...well...Arthur was running me ragged as always. Anyway, I stumbled and caused him to ruin it somehow. I think he still has that piece set aside as a reminder for me not to enter his forge."_

_"Have you thought about using your magic?"_

_"I've tried, but my magic won't work on Bubo..."_

_"No, I mean to fix the piece Wygar was making. I know Uther isn't around anymore, but perhaps the gesture alone might do well to win Wygar's favor."_

_"Oh...OH!" A bright smile lit Merlin's face. He jumped up and gathered up the owl and its pieces. He gave Gwen a quick peck on the cheek. She laughed as he raced off towards the castle forge._

_(*~*)_

Merlin was thankful for the suggestion. Once Wygar calmed down enough for Merlin to explain what he wanted to do to remedy his earlier mishap, the smith finally agreed to allow Merlin to try and fix it. At first, the smith stood back and watched apprehensively; fearful of the magic. Soon enough, however, he was working on the piece alongside the warlock. Together, they created a glorious helm of shining steel, gold, and gems. The dragon crest completed the amazing helm, in which Merlin worked a bit of his magic to help keep its wearer from harm.

Afterwards, Merlin felt confident enough to present his personal issue to the smith. Wygar took one look at the owl and burst out laughing. He abruptly ceased when the owl moved on his own accord and sounded like he was indignantly berating him. The warlock chuckled and explained the story behind the bird. Wygar perked up immensely when he heard it was an ancient god of smiths who had supposedly crafted the metal creature.

Almost three weeks later, and Bubo was sitting on Wygar's workbench having his final repaired tail feather attached. Things were going smoothly in Camelot, and Merlin wondered how long it would last.

Mercia had remained silent along the borders with Camelot. Gwaine brought back word that Gaheris was caught in a stalemate of negotiations with Bayard.

Bran and Tristan's party had not been heard from directly. Although, Bran had said he planned on trying to repair the bridge with Grettir, after doing reconnaissance on the dolmen. A messenger, hired from a village near the tunnels, arrived recently with confirmation of the prince's decision. Arthur wanted to give the man a bit more time, before becoming concerned...Gwaine wasn't happy with the king's decision.

Merlin chuckled to himself. He wondered if his friend's worried state was simply because he felt they needed help; and not that Aylass...a capable swordswoman in her own right...was with her father and not in Camelot, where he could try and win her favor during the upcoming celebrations.

"That should do it," Wygar said. He stood back and rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks, admiring the repairs.

Bubo whistled and whirred, flexing his wings and spreading his tail.

"We should probably head outside, let you test it all out," Merlin said, smiling at the owl, who chirped in agreement. "Care to join us?"

Wygar shrugged, "Why not! I can give the king his new helm. You know, old Uther would probably be rolling in his grave, if he knew I allowed magic to touch it."

Merlin cringed, remembering when Arthur released his father's spirit. "You have no idea how right you are."

(*~*~*~*)

The practice field was filled with people, many having arrived for the tournament set to begin the following morning. Vividly colored tents spilled out over any available ground nearby. Many of the visiting knights were staying outside, while only the higher ranking visitors and dignitaries were granted rooms within the castle.

Merlin glanced at Wygar, as they made their way across the field to a more open area, away from the main tournament grounds. Many of the visitors stopped to stare at the smith and the warlock as they passed. Merlin could sense, though, that their eyes were not on either of the two men, but the metal bird riding on his shoulder.

They reached an area that was still free of tents. Bubo climbed down off Merlin's shoulder onto the warlock's offered forearm. "Are you ready, my friend?" He asked the owl, and received a chirp in response. A few others, who had witnessed the warlock and smith crossing the field, gathered around behind them; waiting to watch the owl's maiden flight.

Merlin held out his arm and Bubo stretched out his wings. Each movement sounded more like gears clicking and grinding, than feathers buffeting the air. Aithusa snuck through the crowd to her father. She eyed the owl warily. Merlin smiled at her. Since finding the clockwork creature, the dragon girl had wavered from fascination to suspicion, and back again. Galahad seemed to be able to understand the bird's whistles, but she had yet to make any sense of the noises.

At first, Merlin didn't know what to make of the situation, until Gaius explained that it was the innocent openness of a child's mind, that must have allowed Haddy to comprehend. Aithusa, being a dragon, did not possess the same abilities. Arthur, who had refused to be left out of conversation when they first discussed the owl, had laughed uproariously and made a cheeky comment about Merlin's immaturity.

It took a few tries before the owl was able to lift off his new master's arm, and the initial flight was comical. Anyone witnessing, who held any apprehension up until that point, lost their nervousness to laughter at the metal creature's ungainly attempt. Merlin and Wygar clasped the other's forearm in triumph.

"He's better than you were at flying, Father," the pale girl deadpanned.

Merlin chuckled at his daughter and mussed her hair. "Once the madness of this tournament is over, I need to work on that."

After a few more successful passes, Bubo finally came back to land on Merlin's arm. The crowd, realizing the show was over, began to disperse and turned their attention back to their training.

"We should get your gift to the king," Merlin stated.

They found Arthur in the midst of overseeing the final touches for the tournament. Merlin chuckled, wondering how he managed to sneak out of his duties to greet the influx of visitors.

"My Lord," Wygar greeted the king.

Arthur nodded a hello. "I was rather surprised to hear you let this idiot back into your forge, Wygar. May I ask, why the change of heart?" It was a subject that had been on the king's mind, ever since he first heard from his wife: Merlin had convinced the surly old smith to help him with the owl. However, there had been too much going on in the preparations for the upcoming celebrations and the possibility of war, for him to indulge in questioning the man's reasons.

Wygar reached into the ruck sack slung over his shoulder, and pulled out a carefully wrapped item. "Lord Emrys helped to repair a piece of armor that I was working on for your father, Sire. I never had the chance to present it to him."

The king's eyes widened, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He reverently accepted the helmet from the smith, turning it over in his hands as he studied every glorious inch of it. His voice came out, a whisper. "It is...magnificent."

"Well, don't just stand there gawking at it like a simpleton." Merlin snickered, "Try it on!"

Arthur's eyes twinkled with childlike enthusiasm as he placed it on his head.

"It is like a crown fit for battle, Sire; worthy of the legacy you are creating." Leon commented, coming to stand next to his king.

Reluctantly, Arthur took off the helm, wanting to know every detail of the ornate piece. "Such a fine piece of craftsmanship should have a name..."

Wygar's chest puffed out proudly, and the smile on his face couldn't have been brighter. "I call it Goswhit, Sire. Thanks to Lord Emrys here, it will always shine as if freshly polished."

The king rolled his eyes. "Trying to make things easier for your replacement?" He accused, although his tone held no malice.

"No, but if I ever catch you even thinking about chucking that at someone's head, I will take it away and you will not be allowed to play with it for a week."

(*~*~*~*)

* * *

_"His helmet gleamed upon his head. The nasal was of gold; circlets of gold adorned the headpiece, with many a clear stone; and a dragon was fashioned for its crest. the helm had once been worn by Uther, his sire."_

_Wace and Layamon ARTHURIAN CHRONICLES, trans, Mason, E., pp. 47-48, Dent, 1962 (1912)._

_"When he had duly set all, as it all besemed, then he put on his burny, fashioned of steel, that an elvish smith made, with his excellent craft; he was named Wygar, the witty wright. His shanks he covered with hose of steel. Caliburn his sword, he hung by his side; it was wrought in Avalon, with magic craft. a helm he set on his head, high of steel; thereon was many gemstones, all encompassed with gold; it was Uther's, the noble king's; it was named Goswhit, each other unlike. He hung on his neck a precious shield; its name was in British called Pridwen; therein was engraved with red gold tracings a precious image of God's mother. His spear he took in hand, that was named Ron. When he had all his weeds, then leapt he on his steed."_

_Wace and Layamon ARTHURIAN CHRONICLES, trans, Mason, E., pp. 194-5, Dent, 1962 (1912)._

* * *

**_Notes: Wygar is the name of the elvish crafter who created Arthur's burny (or chainmail), Goswhit is the name of Arthur's helm, said to be passed down from Uther. So what does my mind do... TWIST! So...in my little fantasy world Wygar made both._**

**_Goswhit [ME, Layamon];_**

**_[Usually construed to mean "goose-white" Madden, Wücker, Brown, but suggested derivation from gospeit "glittering, polished" proposed by Imelmann (source: Françoise Hazel Marie le Saux, Layamon's Brut: The Poem and Its Sources, p.119 )]_**

**_Speculation around elves and dwarves can come partially from the Norse. In the hills outside of the normal society lived groups and tribes of outcasts. Whether deformed at birth, or maimed in life, these groups would teach themselves various crafts to trade with the normal society. Set apart, they were viewed with suspicion and also revered for their abilities. If you have seen '13th Warrior' when the queen takes the group to the old woman with the gift of sight, that is an example of what I'm talking about._**

**_As for Bubo: this webpage has the simplest answer I've found concerning the name and the little guys mythological origins. answers. yahoo dot com /question /index?qid=20070923123514AAEoMSF He is a mixture of actual Greek myth, and movie creation, if you have anything more accurate about him, please feel free to share it! youtube dot com /watch?v=MYSeCfo9-NI_**

Thank you as always for the reviews! To Nance for her wonderful beta-reading, and IcarusLSU for helping to steer my muse.

YAH, Frankie! For giving 'Lord of Beasts' its 100th review!

Keep em coming, my muse feeds on your comments! ;D


	18. Chapter 18- Morgana's Dilemma and Note

_**Short chapter, note at the bottom.**_

* * *

Since her arrival in Camelot, Morgana kept to the main castle, worried about what might happen, if she ventured out alone after her first day. Merlin was correct in how well she and Alice got along. When she wasn't spending time with Guinevere and the other ladies, she found herself in the Physician's Chambers absorbing all the knowledge she could from the spunky older woman.

She had mixed emotions when she spoke to Gaius. He seemed so much older than she ever imagined. Growing up in the castle, he was always the oldest man she ever knew... but his energy never wavered. Now as she looked at him, he was truly an old man; sitting on his bed; huddled by his fire. Other than the polite greetings, she avoided speaking with him, though Merlin came often to sit with him and visit. Morgana usually excused herself at those times.

So many of her memories in Camelot centered upon him shoving potions and sleep tonics down her throat in an attempt to keep her magic at bay. So many of the lies that turned her towards her sister in the first place came from him, just as much as they did from Uther. Many times he promised her that what she saw in her dreams were only from her imagination.

Gwen and Arthur didn't know any better, and Merlin was young and scared himself at the time. Morgana knew that much of what Merlin believed was right came from the dragon, but now she knew the reasoning for that. However, Gaius' actions since she first arrived in Camelot still baffled her.

She felt like she should confront the old man and have it out with him, but his frail state kept her words at bay. Normally, she tried to avoid being left alone with him. Unfortunately, Merlin was having a late dinner with Arthur to discuss private matters concerning the upcoming tournament, and Alice was called away to attend a visiting noble who had slipped down some stairs. Morgana tried to avoid even looking at Gaius while she went about trying to craft a tonic Alice had been teaching her.

"You look well, Morgana," he said, breaking the silence.

"Thank you, Gaius," was her only response as she stirred the mixture.

"I imagine you must feel a great relief to be back in Camelot again, after so many years." He watched her with his rheumy eyes.

Morgana tried to smile pleasantly. "Yes it does, thank you."

His eyebrow rose in a way that almost made her giggle. She caught herself and coughed to cover it up.

"You do realize, I am trying to have a conversation with you, child?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Gaius."

"Oh? You could have fooled me with the way you are acting," he said dismissively.

Morgana sighed, "Really? After all the years of potions and lies...how do you expect me to act around you?"

"Ah, but I am not the one who chose to run off at night to a stranger for help."

"No, however you did nothing to stop it, or to offer me the help I needed, while I was here."

Gaius's shoulders sagged and he stared into the fire. "I did only what I thought best...to keep you safe from Uther. I had no knowledge, until after events were set in motion, that he was your real father. If I admitted you had magic, I feared what might have befallen you."

Morgana slammed her hand down on the table. "But you never even took that chance! I had a right to know, Gaius! I should have been told about my dreams! I looked up to you when I came here, after my father died! You were the one who comforted me the most, and it was your betrayal...your lies...that set up the destiny I followed.

"You encouraged Merlin to lie to me. You were almost worse than any of the bootlicking nobles at Uther's feet; the way you allowed him to carry on with the Purge. You stood by and watched so many innocent people die."

He felt his heart clench, having heard nearly the same words from Nimueh years before. "And that is why I did what I felt I needed to, to keep you safe from the pyre, for your mother's sake."

"Did you even know my mother was still alive, until Merlin came back and told you?"

Gaius appeared taken aback by her question. He chewed on the thought for a moment. "I had my suspicions."

"Then why did you never try to find her?"

"I had thought about that, many times child, but I didn't want Uther to find her. It would have meant both of your deaths."

Morgana looked back at her mixture and realized it was now ruined. She groaned and wiped away the beginning of tears on her sleeve. Her frustration with the old man was affecting her concentration, and she berated herself for it.

"If you add some cooled infusion of wormwood, it will salvage the recipe," he offered.

Morgana glanced at him and nodded, "Thank you." She added the infusion as he instructed and noticed the change in her mixture. After a period of silence between them, she finally spoke again. "I'm not sure if I can forgive you, Gaius, if that's what you're hoping for."

Gaius turned back towards the fire and smiled sadly. "I'm uncertain if I will live long enough to forgive myself for all I could have done. For you most of all, Morgana."

(*~*)

She heard giggling as she made her way back to her own quarters. Slowing her steps, Morgana peered around the corner in the hallway. Merlin was leaning with his back against the wall, rubbing at his eyebrow...and smiling at Princess Mithian. Turning away, Morgana squeezed her eyes shut and began, unconsciously, rubbing at her wrist. She was already in a bitter mood from her conversation with Gaius. The last thing she wanted, was another reminder of the walking nightmare she had lived. Her mind flooded with emotions, listening to her husband flirting with another woman.

* * *

_**(not your typical) Author's Note: First off thank you to Nance for the beta-reading. I really don't know where I was without you!**_

_**Ok...so, I hate updates that are solely a note with an excuse from the author. Which is why I included a little bit of reading, actually relevant to the story with this one. (clever, aren't I?) **_

_**Anyway...after 2-3, or more, updates a week in this story arc since last October, my muses were burnt out. I have bits written for after chapter 20, and the plot line is still in place, but bridging the gap between the two places was taking more effort and energy than my creativity had at the moment. **_

_**I tried hiring some temp muses from an agency...only to discover they actually worked for a secret government organization. Although, which government organization remains to be determined. These new muses took my old ones, kidnapped them, and sent them through a stargate to an undisclosed location.**_

_**Meanwhile, in a twisted effort to save Gwaine at the end of 5x13, an odd start of a story was sitting in my folders since around April (I think). The muses from the agency decided to run with it. The story is a multifandom crossover of Merlin, Stargate, and Doctor Who. I am attempting to write it in a way that you won't need to have full knowledge of SG or DW (just a basic understanding is good).**_

_**It's called Brave New World, it will be less than 10 chapters, and no big bad evil, or amazingly complex plot line. It is more on the dramatic side with a lot of bromance and of course...my twisted humor (and some romance too). The story bridges between the historic and modern, taking place after the finale of Merlin. Check it out if you would, I think it'll surprise you!**_

_**And hopefully I can get it out of my system and come back with a fresh new burst of energy on this one!**_

**_Thanks for your reviews and support! *air kisses* You guys are the best!_**

**_Moon Fox_**


	19. Chapter 19- Creatures

_**As much as I tried (and believe me, I DID try...) I could not make roadkill out of this chapter. *sigh* So...at least one, possibly two, extra chapters have been added, unexpectedly, to my outline. However, I think you will all enjoy this one. It sort of...um...**_**hops**_** around. (pun intended) **_

_**Anyway, thank you for the reviews! Frankie- for giving the 100th review on this, there's a little bit of Arwen, as you requested ;)**_

_**Special thanks to Nance for beta-reading and IcarusLSU for laughing hysterically with me...or at me...about this situation. The two of you, for your different POVs and skills, help make up what has become a great team for my muses. **_

_****__**I'm going to try and get Brave New World (A modern Merlin crossover) finished before the next chapter of this one comes out. So I can return my focus fully to this one. With that, please enjoy and leave a review if you would be so kind!**_

* * *

The fire burned low in the hearth. No sooner had the sun set, then fog rolled in and chilled the air. Merlin sat in a chair near the fireplace, a book on his lap. Aithusa was off with Hunith and Godwyn, who had arrived earlier that day for the coming week of celebrations. Merlin was glad to see his mother, and hear her voice; thankful that she had completely recovered from her brush with death.

He sighed and stared into the flames, wondering if Bran and Tristan had any luck locating the elusive outlaw, Alvarr. The group had not been heard from, aside from the one messenger, since they departed. Gwaine and Percival, who had gone off to Lothian, should have returned as well...Merlin was feeling distinctly uneasy about the silence from both groups.

...And then there was Mithian...the princess of Nemeth had cornered him in the hallway earlier that evening with the oddest of requests. He closed the book and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about it. He wasn't sure how, or if he even dared, explain it to Morgana...especially if she was already in a mood.

Morgana had been assisting Alice that evening. He expected her to walk through the door to their rooms, at any moment. He sent out a mental caress to her earlier, only to receive the equivalent of a slap in the face from his wife. It made him curious about what might be upsetting her this time.

Merlin debated reaching out with his magic again to her. He hoped she would return to their room soon. Physically, he could sense she was perfectly fine...emotionally, she was shutting him out.

The soft clacking sound of gears came from the top of the mantle. Merlin looked up at the owl and had an epiphany. "Bubo, do you think you could fly out and find someone for me?"

A low tone, followed by a series of what could only be called twittering, came from the golden bird. The warlock smiled. He pushed himself out of the chair and made his way over to the desk. Writing a brief note, he came back to the owl and tied it to Bubo's leg. "This is for Sir Gwaine or Sir Percival. They should be somewhere between here and Lothian, to the north.

"Now, I want you to stay away from towns if you can. It wouldn't do to have you captured or broken by someone else." He then described the two men to the bird before carrying Bubo to the window.

The owl stretched his wings and after another bout of happy whistles, he flew off into the night.

Merlin went back to his chair and his book, but he found himself unable to concentrate. He kept looking towards the door, waiting for his wife.

(*~*~*~*)

"Where have you been?" Arthur asked in concern, when his wife entered their quarters. "I was only asking, because I was worried, my love." He explained immediately when she glared at him. It was like walking on eggshells around her most days, although as her pregnancy progressed the extreme mood swings had mostly subsided.

Gwen lowered herself into a chair at the table. "Morgana needed someone to talk to."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, just some concerns she had about all the guests. It's hard for her, being back in Camelot, with so much going on."

Arthur moved up behind his wife and began rubbing her shoulders, gently. "Is there anyone, in particular, bothering her?"

The queen thought for a moment before answering. "She is most concerned about Princess Mithian. Apparently, she saw Mithian flirting with Merlin earlier this evening."

"You are joking?" Arthur grimaced.

Gwen shook her head. "That, on top of their history, had Morgana almost in a panic."

Arthur sniggered, "Morgana...panicking? Right."

"I said, almost...also, I think something happened between her and Gaius, but she refused to elaborate on what it was."

"I am glad that my sister still has you as a friend. So...is she going to speak with Merlin about the situation?"

"I don't know, Arthur. She mentioned going to check on Clarissant, but that was all." Guinevere hummed softly when her husband gently massaged a particularly nasty knot between her shoulders. "I am thankful Morgana convinced her to stay in the castle."

Arthur nodded. He finished rubbing his wife's shoulders and moved around in front of her. Holding out his hands, he helped her stand up. He was grateful for both Morgana and the Lady Clarissant. The two women carried great burdens of their own, and assisting them seemed to take Gwen's mind off of things. "Tomorrow will be a long day for us both, I'm sure. Shall we retire for the night?"

At her nod, Arthur picked his wife up, bridal style, and carried her over to the bed, admiring how beautiful she was...especially, with her rounding belly. "Shall I call for a maid, or would you allow me to assist you out of this gown?"

Gwen smiled, "If you think you are able to. We can just let the maids be for the night. Do try and take more care than you did last time, however." The teasing tone in her voice had Arthur grinning like a fool when he started to unlace his wife's bodice.

(*~*~*~*)

"My Lord...My Lord?" George's voice broke through the dream Merlin was currently having. "It is time for you to rise. The druids have arrived. They seek an audience with you before the festivities today."

The warlock blinked, and wondered for a moment why he was in the chair. He glanced to the bed, and noted that it hadn't been slept in at all. He nodded an acknowledgement to George. "Thank you." He reached out with his senses and found Morgana, still shutting him out. "George have you seen Morgana this morning?"

"Not personally, Sire. She sent a maid in to retrieve the dress she wished to wear for the day. I was informed she had stayed with the Lady Clarissant last night." The servant busied himself around the room.

"She's angry at me...again."

George stifled a chuckle. "Is that so, Sire?"

"Yes...and once again, I haven't the slightest inkling as to why..." Merlin pushed out of the chair, clumsily dropping his book to the floor, breaking the binding. He stared at it forlornly for a few moments, before picking it up. "It's going to be one of those days, George. I can just feel it."

(*~*~*~*)

"Sire, Sirs Vortimer and John have returned from Corbenic." Gilli said quietly, rushing up to Arthur as he headed out towards the arena. The two knights followed behind the servant.

"Ah good!" The king smiled. "Tell me, are Prince Bran and the others with you?"

"No, My Lord," Vortimer stated simply.

"Walk with me to the tournament grounds, and tell me what has taken place."

"Sire, we reached the area and found no sign of the sorcerer, Alvarr. We then assisted Prince Bran in retrieving the cauldron and returning it to his castle. Tristan, his daughter, and the other three knights elected to stay there and secure it, while Sir John and I returned to give you an update."

"So...nothing has befallen any of them?" Arthur looked over the two knights. Nothing seemed out of place. It all appeared perfectly normal. Something was niggling in the back of Arthur's mind. He didn't know either of the knights very well. John was older, and although having been a knight for longer than Arthur himself, he wasn't one who stood out. Vortimer, on the other hand, was ambitious and young. There was just something about him that wasn't sitting right with the king. Just over a year ago, Arthur would have simply dismissed it, now he felt a bit of Merlin's paranoia rubbing off on him.

"No, Sire." John said. The man looked exhausted.

The king nodded and smiled, "Welcome back then. If either of you are feeling up to it after your journey, you are more than welcome to submit your names for the competitions."

Vortimer and John bowed, and expressed their gratitude, as Arthur continued on his way. John mentioned something about getting cleaned up, but Vortimer just stood and watched the king depart, his expression unreadable.

With his back to the young knight, Arthur gave his servant a glance. His eyes silently giving the young man his orders. It was one of the many times that the king was thankful that Merlin had found Gilli. Even though he may not be able to read written words very well, he could read people, and he'd become rather proficient in understanding the messages in the king's eyes. 'Keep an eye on Vortimer,' was stated as plainly as if it had been spoken out loud.

(*~*~*~*)

Merlin's prediction came true.

First: Arthur wanted to speak with Merlin and the arriving druids about some sort of magical 'demonstration' to start off the festivities. The druids were wary of the idea, and understandably so.

After he left the meeting with the king, Merlin was assured that nothing of entertainment value would be requested from the peaceful druids...however, it somehow left him stuck with being the king's entertainment.

He knew Arthur wasn't an idiot...well...a majority of the time.

He figured his cousin must have planned this from the beginning, as a way to expose Merlin to the public.

Merlin argued that perhaps Gilli would be better suited for the task. "'...Oh, no, Gilli will be TOO busy with all his duties. I am sure, YOU, of ALL people, can appreciate how much work my manservant must do at a tournament. It HAS to be you, Merlin...'" The warlock mimicked sarcastically, repeating the words of the king. "Self-serving prat."

Second: when Merlin tried to find his wife, he was rebuked at every turn. At least the Lady Clarissant had been kind enough to tell him that Morgana was needing some space, and would see him at the tournament.

Third...well, he hadn't made it quite that far...yet, but he was certain whatever happened next would not come as a complete shock.

He didn't realize how wrong he was. Lancelot was striding down the hallway towards him, with an angry look on his face. Merlin wasn't certain if he had ever seen his friend so irate. With most things, as when Uther tried to banish him, or even when Gwen chose Arthur over him...Lancelot took it all in stride; acquiesced with very little emotion.

In the knight's hands, Merlin saw a toad.

"Merlin."

"Lancelot?"

"Is there any reason you can think of, as to why your daughter would turn my son into...this?"

The warlock had few options available, and he didn't feel that laughing hysterically was the best choice at the moment. He settled for scratching his chin thoughtfully. He studied the amphibian for a few seconds before looking Lancelot straight in the eyes. "Nope, sorry. I have no idea why she would do such a thing. Good luck with that!"

Side-stepping around the knight, he tried to walk away quickly, only to be stopped in his tracks by the tone of his friend's voice.

"Merlin..." Lancelot said in desperation.

"Alright!" The warlock turned back around and quickly said a few words of the old language. His eyes glowed...and nothing happened. Taking the toad from Lancelot, he tried again, to no avail. His voice deepened and he called out in a raspy voice. "Aithusa..."


	20. Chapter 20-- Haunting Past

**This chapter is dedicated to MagicGirl41 Who's "Holy crap on a cracker..." review still has me rolling with laughter. In the review (which was wonderfully long and truly amazing) I was reminded of something I had neglected...and ultimately where I was getting stuck.**

**Beta'ed by Nance**

* * *

"May I sit with you, Princess Mithian?" Clarissant asked politely.

The Nemeth noble smiled and nodded her head. She turned towards the other woman, who was hobbling up toward her. "Here, allow me to assist you."

Clarissant made no qualms about accepting the help. Her hands curled around her distended belly. Mithian held Clarissant's elbow and eased the other woman into a seat.

"You look as if you will be giving birth any day now." The princess giggled.

Groaning, Clarissant rolled her eyes. "No, I have at least another two months before the Lady Vivienne says these babies will come."

"Babies? Plural?" Mithian smiled her astonishment.

"Yes. She won't say for absolute certainty, as my husband is a rather large man, himself. However, she believes she felt two separate heads moving, the last time she examined me." The pregnant woman groaned and repositioned herself in the chair, grimacing. "I really hope it's two, else this birth is going to be very painful."

Mithian laughed with the other woman. "You are Sir Percival's wife, correct?" The two women had only been briefly introduced the day before.

"I am...and Sir Gwaine's sister."

The light conversation paused as Morgana came into the stands. Mithian held her breath as the raven-haired priestess approached them. "Princess Mithian." She greeted in a reserved voice before turning a smile to Clarissant. "No word from your husband yet?"

Clarissant sighed and brushed back her hair. "No."

Morgana squeezed her friend's shoulder in reassurance. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

After Morgana moved to her own seat near the queen, who sat on one of the center thrones, under a canopy. Clarissant turned to Mithian. "You don't care for the Lady Morgana very much, do you?"

Mithian glanced down at her hands. She rubbed at her wrist where a burn scar was barely visible. "She and I have history that I would rather not speak of."

Pursing her lips, Clarissant looked back and forth between the two. "I'm sorry to hear that. She and I had met only this last spring. But even before that, she had sent Lord Emrys with a care package for me...after I was captured by her sister, following my first husband's demise. I have known her to be nothing but kind."

"I am glad for you. My experience with her was not so pleasant."

"Was it prior to Lord Emrys' discovery of his birthright?" The pregnant woman asked, curious.

Mithian nodded, "I believe so."

"She remembers little of that time, you know. She was being corrupted and manipulted by the dark spirit of her sister. It was only after she was freed from the spell, that she understood what had befallen her. Morgana has few memories of that time. The few she does haunt her. She wasn't in control of anything she had done, but the regret, that she was unable to prevent any of it, weighs heavily on her soul.

"I know how it is to be in a position where you have no power over anything. My first husband was a brutal man. It has only been with the friendship of those like Morgana, and the love of my new husband, that I have been able to come to terms with it all."

Trumpets blared to life and cheers started from the crowd as King Arthur came onto the field, interrupting their conversation. Mithian stood and cheered with the rest, but her eyes kept drifting towards Morgana. The woman sitting next to Queen Guinevere certainly looked different than the crazed witch Mithian had been shackled to.

Morgana's hair was washed and pinned neatly back from her face, instead of the ratted, unkempt mess of locks Mithian was familiar with. Her dress was not of tattered black lace. Instead, it was a rich emerald green silk tailored to fit beautifully. Mithian heard the stories, as had most people by now, of the magical torture which had befallen the Lady Morgana. She made a note to speak more with Merlin about his new wife. She trusted him to tell her the truth.

Turning back towards the field, her brown eyes roamed along the knights who were lined up behind the king. She felt herself blush when they found the man whom she had spoken about the previous evening with Merlin. Mithian was surprised to see a stern look on Sir Lancelot's face.

(*~*~*~*)

Arthur gave an amazing speech amidst glorious fanfare. The horses pawed anxiously. The knights in attendance fiddled with their weapons and armor, preparing for their chance at a glorious prize. The nobles in the crowd listened, enthralled by the words of the king.

Little did they realize that the prepared speech was thrown out the window in a fit of improvisation, when a certain warlock failed to arrive for the demonstration the king so desperately wanted. He walked off the field, his confidence never wavering.

Blue eyes seethed with anger the moment the tent flap was closed. Arthur turned to Gilli. "Go find Merlin."

(*~*~*~*)

"It's a toad." Old eyes were enlarged unnaturally by the magnifying spectacles, perched on the nose of the ancient physician.

"Yeees..." Merlin drawled out. "It is also the son of Sir Lancelot."

Gaius gave his surrogate son a slap across the back of his head. "Why on earth would you turn your friend's son into a toad?"

"It wasn't me!" The warlock protested. "Haddy was talking about Princess Mithian saving him and how he planned on marrying her, when he got older. Aithusa got jealous and turned him into...this."

The old man huffed and glanced over at the small girl, who was sitting on the stairs leading up to his former ward's old room.

Merlin bit the side of his thumb nervously. "I can't seem to change him back and she tried as well. I used my abilities to order her to do it, Gaius, but it didn't work!"

"Only a kiss...from a real princess can change him back." Aithusa said in a whispered voice. "I tried to kiss him, but I guess I'm not a real princess."

Merlin pursed his lips, hearing the heartache in her words. He moved over to the forlorn-looking little girl. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he knelt next to her. "You are a princess, but you are a dragon princess. Curses like this are meant for humans."

Gilli burst into the room, looking frantically about. "Gaius have you seen..." his voice trailed off when he spotted the subject of his harried search. "Merlin, Arthur was expecting you out on the field for the demonstration...Why is there a toad on that table?"

Sighing, Merlin stood up. "He's not a toad." The younger man's eyes narrowed with annoyance before Merlin could continue. He explained the situation to the king's servant.

"Well, then the answer is obvious, and solves both our problems." Gilli announced with a grin that was met by three raised eyebrows, as Merlin and Gaius looked at him. "Get Princess Mithian to kiss him and change him back...in front of the crowd."

Merlin glowered at the young man. He then snatched up the toad, who croaked in protest at the slightly rough treatment. Handing the amphibian to Gilli, he said, "Here you go then. It's your idea. Good luck with it."

Gilli forced a smile, shook his head, and shoved the toad back toward Merlin. "Ha ha ha...NO!"

(*~*~*~*)

The opening jousts were already well underway when Merlin finally made it into the stands. He took his seat next to his wife.

"It's about time you got here." She mentioned in an offhanded, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you're talking to me now? How nice." His voice dripped with sarcasm. He immediately regretted his tone when her face tightened.

"I was dealing some issues last night."

Merlin sighed, "I wish you would talk to me about these things."

"I didn't realize I had to check in with you."

"You don't." He turned towards her, cupping her porcelain cheek in his hand. "I love you, and I want to help. But if I don't know what is going on, how can I, Morgana?" His blue eyes searched her face. He took her hand gently, and rubbed circles on the back with his thumb. After all they had overcome, he still felt her hesitancy in fully trusting herself. Many times, when insecurity would wash over her delicate features, he wished for nothing more than to be able to magically whisk it away, and to show her what he saw in her. The beauty and strength that she possessed. Her ability to fight, even against death, to maintain her own identity and also, just how many people loved her.

She felt tears stinging her eyes, and chided herself for her impulsiveness the evening before. She leaned into his palm. Deep down, she knew he wouldn't have done anything untoward. "I know. Gaius and I spoke yesterday...and then I saw you in the corridor with Mithian..."

Merlin chuckled, "She and I are friends. She was simply asking me for a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Morgana's eyes darted towards the princess.

"She wants me to dance with her, at the feast tonight."

Morgana's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"There is a certain man she has her eye on. She thought that, with my horrible coordination on the dance floor, I could somehow manage to put her in a position where this person would save her from it. I was planning on telling you, but..." he clucked his tongue against his teeth, teasingly. "...you were avoiding me."

"Oh..." The raven-haired woman was trying not to laugh at the revelation. "Well, as long as it isn't you she is after, I suppose I can allow it."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It may not even come to that, however. Our wonderful child may have, inadvertently, found a better method." It was only then that Morgana realized the small satchel Merlin was carrying, moved.

(*~*~*~*)

_A lone torch burned against the darkness. Its flickering glow created a cascade of shadows across the dirt floor and stone wall. Thick soot on the ceiling above showcased years of neglect in this part of the catacombs. Recently tattered and torn by human hands making their way through the tunnels, the spider webs sizzled and melted out of existence as they fluttered too close to the flame._

_The floor hadn't seen a broom in nearly a hundred years, and the tan paving stones had disappeared under layers of dust packed solid from time. Three men knelt in a semi-circle. Dressed in dark leather and cloaks, there wasn't a mark or crest among them declaring their houses or allegiance. Two others stood nearby, keeping watch through the dim lighting offered by the torch._

_Not a man among them had seen his third decade, and at least two had yet to see his second. The youngest unrolled a map in front of them, barely stirring the dust. He was seventeen, and eager to prove himself. His lanky blond hair looked brown in the gloom of the tunnel, with blue eyes more like gray steel._

_The second youngest, a man of nineteen winters with brown hair cropped close to the scalp, smiled wickedly. His piercing green eyes surveyed the map._

_"You did well, Caradoc. You will be rewarded for your effort."_

_"Edmund was the one who obtained the map, My Prince," Young Caradoc stated. Although he would have enjoyed taking the credit, he knew that what they had planned was a group effort._

_Uther looked up at one of the men standing guard, and offered him a grateful nod of recognition. Edmund wasn't the sharpest of their little group, but he was loyal to a fault to Uther. "...And the other thing we spoke of?"_

_Caradoc grinned and pulled out a leather wrapped vial from his belt pouch. Uther held the glass up towards the light, and admired the liquid contents within. "My Lady Grandmother, Rowena, Queen and Wife of Vortigern, sent her personal physician to us. He is heavily indebted to my family. He will have no choice but to do our bidding, or suffer for his disobedience."_

_Uther clasped his young friend on the shoulder proudly. "You have all done well. Are the preparations in order for us to ride out tomorrow?" He asked, turning toward the other man who was crouched beside him_

_"Yes, My King...er Prince." Tristan DuBois corrected with a smug look. "We set out in the morning to investigate reports of Gauls attacking to the south, near the coast. It will take us at least two weeks to journey there and back, especially with the numbers we will be taking." Tristan's dark blue eyes appeared like wells of ink in his face. His blond hair was tied neatly back away from his face with a leather wrap. Tristan was, for the most part, an honorable man, but the temptation to arrange a marriage between his sister and the future king, was one he dared not forego._

_High King Ambrosius seemed to have no interest in marriage, being still smitten with the druid harlot mother of his bastard son, Balinor. It was appalling to conceive that Ambrosius might soon name the bastard, who appeared to have no interest in politics, as his heir...even over his own brother. If the DuBois family wished to gain greater influence over the kingdom, it meant seeking out Uther and offering Ygraine's hand to him. The ambitious young prince jumped on the suggested allegiance._

_At the other end of the tunnel, Gorlois stood silently, keeping watch though he was reasonably sure no one would discover them. He stifled a sigh. He agreed that Ambrosius needed a clear heir, and he was friends with Balinor. The budding young sorcerer had no interest in becoming a knight, nor in the politics of Court. When Gorlois first joined Uther, he simply thought he would be helping to push Ambrosius into naming Uther as heir. By the time he realized that Uther's plan actually meant something more diabolical, he was too deeply involved._

_He had tried to speak to Balinor about the situation, but the wizard just brushed it off. He was blinded by Uther's charisma, and remained unwilling to see the darkness that trolled beneath the surface. Uther made certain to be nothing but kind to his nephew, who was a few years older. He followed the dark haired man around, and listened with rapt attention to the tales of growing up in a druid clan. The fact that Gorlois was enthralled with a budding young priestess, who Balinor was acquainted with from his training, didn't help matters...especially when Uther found out, and used it to his advantage._

_"Caradoc, you will stay behind. You have yet to receive your Accolade. Make certain your Queen Rowena's physician takes good care of my brother while we are away, and you can be assured I will remedy the situation upon my return." Uther studied the map before him. It showed a system of tunnels that ran under Camelot. "The Saxon forces provided by Queen Rowena will attempt to take the city once my dearly beloved brother becomes ill. Upon our return, we shall use these tunnels to gain entrance into Camelot and dispose of them..."_

_No one noticed as the five men slipped out of the catacombs late that night, and departed on their separate ways._

(*~*)

"Greetings, My Lord Father." The young man hailed properly, approaching the elder gentleman.

"Greetings, my son. It's good to see you have returned unscathed." Lord Caradoc smiled at the knight. "Was the journey a success?"

"Yes, Father. Sir John returned with me, but he is feeling rather exhausted by all the travels. I fear he may have taken ill during our return trip from escorting Prince Bran to his homeland." Vortimer's face was impassive, as he spoke.

"Hmm, that is a pity, my son. I had hoped since he was knighted by Uther, that we could have relied on him for what is to come. After Lord Edmund's demise, we have found ourselves short on allies, and the kingdom grows more frivolous with each passing day." He motioned to the spectacle that was taking place in the tournament arena.

Merlin, the servant, had come on after the first round and presented a toad to the crowd. He proclaimed how magic could be used for good things, like healing the accursed. He spoke of how magic was all around them, and one didn't need to be a sorcerer to have magical powers. The raven-haired man then approached the Princess of Nemeth, and asked that she kiss the toad.

At first shocked, the princess did as the warlock asked. She giggled and clapped in delight, when a golden mist surrounded the toad, and it turned into a messy-headed little boy. 'How dare one of such nobility lower herself to the tricks of a two-bit sorcerer,' the noble lord thought to himself.

Even during the rule of Ambrosius, such antics would have been frowned upon. There were always more dire things to attend to...such as keeping the kingdom in order and free from attack. Had the High King survived longer, Caradoc was certain however, that such displays would have become common place. Uther was right in his fear of what unchecked magic would bring.

It was true that during the beginning of Uther's reign, the late king had utilized the magic of others to reach his goal. At that time, the only way to fight against the dark and corrupting forces, was from the inside out.

Proof of the evil of magic came when the priestess named Nimueh took the life of Ygraine, after Arthur was born.

Caradoc was away at the time for nearly a year, visiting his grandmother on her deathbed. Upon his return, he found chaos erupting from all corners of Camelot. Tristan DuBois, in his grief, had wrongly accused his brother-in-law of killing Ygraine. Sadly, that was DuBois' last fight.

Gorlois stood by the king for many years after that, though his wife and one of his daughters had disappeared. Uther, of course, blamed sorcery, but after that, the friendship between the two men had begun to feel the strain of the Purge.

Edmund was the eternal bootlicker. It was a wonder to Caradoc how the man survived as long as he did. Among the original group, only Caradoc remained...that is, aside from his grandmother's physician.

After they retook Camelot in the wake of Ambrosius' untimely demise, Uther graciously repaid the physician's debts to Rowena; allowing the woman to live the rest of her years in a style of luxury rarely afforded the widow of a defeated king. He also compensated her for the grief his brother had caused. This tactic put the near forty year old physician wholly into the young king's debt.

It wasn't until later years, when the physician took in a ward of his supposed niece, that the old man began to defy Uther. Subtly at first, and Caradoc on more than one occasion, had to remind Gaius of his place and what should befall him, if he ever betrayed Uther. The evidence was still there. Caradoc held no qualms about telling Uther's Council of Lords what he witnessed on the night of Ambrosius' death.

Vortimer smiled, his dirty blond hair falling into his brown eyes. "I may have found a solution to our problems, Father." He said, pulling his father out of his memories.

Caradoc looked at his son and raised an eyebrow.

"We no longer need to worry about the squire Loholt. The more I have witnessed, the more I realize he would never be swayed to our cause. However, I have met with someone who wishes to foster the king's unborn child, and raise him in the same values that King Uther and his father Constantus upheld. It will take patience, but you have taught me well."

The older man smiled, his eyes drifting back to the spectacle on the field. Sir Lancelot, now a prince of Caerleon, was asking for a token of luck from the Princess of Nemeth. "You have done well, my son."

(*~*~*~*)

"Gwaine. Gwaine!" Percival hissed out in a hushed voice. He toed the other knight's boot, in an attempt to rouse him.

Percival's eyes were focused solely on one spot, in the lower branches of a nearby tree.

At first, the knight thought he was dreaming, when the odd sound travelled into his hearing. Now, he crouched near the fire, staring at the odd metal bird with demonically glowing eyes.

"It's not my watch yet." Gwaine grumbled and shifted, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

"Gwaine, get up! There's something watching us."

He blinked, Percival's words filtering through his sleep-addled mind. Gwaine sat up with a start and grabbed his sword, instantly alert. His eyes followed Percival's outstretched arm to a tree branch. "What the hell is that?"

The metal bird whistled joyfully, giving the two knights pause. Percival and Gwaine simultaneously cocked their heads to the left...and then slowly back to the right.

"What do you want to bet this is something Merlin conjured up because that sister of mine was getting worried?"

The owl hooted and whirred, his metal wings flapping at the mention of the name.

* * *

_**From Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Briton, Chapter XIV. **_

_"While this occurrence was the subject of the people's discourse, one of the Saxons, named Eopa, came to Pascentius, and said, "What reward will you give the man that shall kill Aurelius Ambrosius for you?" To whom Pascentius answered, "O that I could find a man of such resolution! I would give him a thousand pounds of silver, and my friendship for life; and if by good fortune I can but gain the crown, I promise upon oath to make him a centurion." To this Eopa replied, "I have learned the British language, and know the manners of the people, and have skill in physic. If, therefore, you will perform this promise, I will pretend to be a Christian and a Briton, and when, as a physician, I shall be admitted into the king's presence, I will make him a potion that shall despatch him. And to gain the readier access to him, I will put on the appearance of a devout and learned monk." Upon this offer, Pascentius entered into covenant with him, and confirmed what he had promised with an oath. "_

_**AN: Yep here I go with backstory and legends being twisted to my own evil ends. Basically, for my story I have made Carado into Pascentius, son of Vortigern, and Eopa into Gaius. Uther had been sent, at the time, to march to Cambria and fight off invaders. It was on his return that he saw a comet in the shape of a dragon and took the name Pendragon**_

_** Thanks as always to Nance and IcarusLSU for their hard work keeping me on track with this fic and to all the reviewers and silent readers. Thank you for adding my stories to your favorites!**_


	21. Chapter 21- Joust and Ceremony

_**Well...I know there have been a few of you waiting for this part to get here! Hope you're not disappointed with it. :) (a section of it is unbeta'ed at the time of posting because I have company coming and didn't get the edits in time. So I will come back and fix any big mistakes later) **_

_**Thank you Nance for your hard work and your reviews when you finally read the full posted chapters in more than 500 word sections! (Edited. And YES I did notice! LOL you girly-girl you!)**_

_**IcarusLSU- my brother from another mother in another life...'nuff said. You are my muse.**_

_**Megami- Yes, it was interesting, and it will get more interesting in the next chapters hehe**_

_**michealgalek- I'm glad you like the story! Thanks.**_

_**NOW for a whole chapter of pretty much fluffy feels! Because it might just go downhill from here...but then again...who know ;D PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks!**_

* * *

Slow, deep breaths...he was focused and could already hear the roar of the crowd outside his tent.

He could smell the sweat of horses and men, as they exerted themselves on the field.

He felt the slight tremble of the earth beneath his feet, as another destrier charged down the length of the arena...the echo of its hoofbeats resounded through the land.

He stood in silence, allowing the young man, who he would soon be able to call his son, to strap on the heavy plate armor. This was the third and final day for the tournament.

Due to his skill in past tournaments, as well as his prestigious position at Arthur's side, Leon was among the few knights who actually owned all of their armor. He took pride in the knowledge that he had worked hard for each and every piece.

Loholt finished adjusting the last buckle and stepped back, waiting for Sir Leon's approval. The blond knight smiled and swung his arms, letting the pieces settle into place. "Thank you, Loholt."

The boy smiled proudly and reached for the helm. Leon took it from him, just as the flap of his pavilion lifted and Cai appeared in the opening, dressed in chainmail. "Go check my horse, Loholt. Make certain my lances and shields are prepared as well. Thank you." Leon said, dismissing the boy.

Loholt looked back and forth between his uncle and Leon. Since Bedivere's death, the two men had hardly spoken to one another. He nodded and quietly left the tent.

Leon smiled hopefully at the other man. "You're not jousting today?" He asked.

Cai shook his head. "No, just the melee this afternoon. I was always rubbish at jousting anyway...you should know that."

The blond knight chuckled. It was true that Cai had never taken to the jousting aspect of the tournaments. He competed when they were younger, as squires, and did well enough against the competition; but the melee was where Cai could really hold his own.

"I just wanted to come and wish you luck, my friend."

"Then why do I get the feeling this may also be a 'goodbye'?"

Cai shrugged and found a place to sit. "Merlin and I were speaking with some of the druids who arrived. They have suggested that Merlin find someone else to instruct me in magic."

Leon stood quietly, listening.

"It seems that, because so much of what Merlin does is instinctual and natural ability, he's rather sloppy with the actual practice of it...all the pronunciation and accompanying hand gestures, and such." He explained. "The only time a spell from a book has stumped him, is when he doesn't think he can do it. So, they suggested he take me to a man Merlin knows, in Helva, who might be able to teach me properly. We'll be leaving tonight, just after the wedding ceremony." Leon's eyes took on a hint of fear for a moment, and caused Cai to snicker. "I think you can manage your wedding night without me."

"That is not what that look was about," Leon said defensively. "I am just wondering how long that will that take?"

"As long as it has to, I suppose." Cai stood up and raked his fingers through his hair. "I have never been able to do something like this...something for myself, I mean. My whole life has been about taking care of my family. With my brother gone, and you stepping up for Lisanor and her son, I think it's time I took a step back. Get a fresh perspective on life...and I really don't want to hear you and my sister consummate your marriage through the walls."

Leon laughed and flushed with embarrassment. He nodded his understanding. "Well, I shall miss you." Leon held out his hand. He wanted to do more, but it was neither the time nor the place for such things. It was a small gesture, but he hoped it would be the first step towards getting past recent events. Already this conversation was the most they had spoken to each other, in the past few weeks.

Cai took it with a smile, his eyes meeting those of his lover's.

"Are we alright?" Leon asked tentatively.

The next words were barely a whisper. "We will be." Cai cleared his throat and reluctantly released Leon's hand. "I meant what I said, good luck in the next round. I checked the Tree of Shields, just before I came in here. You're going up against the king next...and the winner faces Sir Lancelot."

(*~*~*~*)

For the first time, Leon didn't hold back against Arthur; the elder knight was no longer torn about letting his monarch win. The festivities and competitions set for the week were in his honor, and he was determined to make the most of it.

His horse pranced. The slit in the visor of his helm gave him tunnel vision down the field to his opponent. The weight of the wooden lance felt more like an extension of himself, rather than the unbalanced and tapered pole it really was.

From across the arena, he noted the gleam in Arthur's eyes. He knew the king was also keen to prove himself; this being the first competition he has participated in, since he nearly fell to Mordred's blade.

Arthur felt, and even_ acted_, younger than before the fateful battle which stole nearly a year of Leon's life. Even though this wasn't the final round of the jousting, it was a climax of anticipation. Cai was correct in his news that the winner would face Lancelot, but that was neither here nor there. The recently discovered Prince of Caerleon was an amazing jouster, no doubt. However, given his history and the fact he was absent from Camelot for so many years, he had become more of an outsider.

To many people in the stands, other than perhaps the Princess Mithian, the finale would be simply another joust. The pinnacle of the week-long competition laid before them now. The king, and the commander of his forces, faced one another down the long stretch of packed dirt. The tilt rail in between them was decked with ribbons, flags, and banners.

Silent affirmation, given through a barely perceptible nod in the heavy plate armor, signalled the young herald boy standing at the center mark, to hold up his flag. The boy's eyes darted back and forth between the two men, his own heart racing. He looked to the queen.

Gwen's face was impassive, but Merlin could read the anxiety in her eyes. He reached out a hand and patted the queen's arm in support. There was always a chance someone would be severely injured in the games these knights played, but deterring them from their favorite competitions was a futile effort. It was best done quickly, like removing a bandage that had begun to stick to newly healed skin.

He saw her relax slightly on an exhale, and knew she took comfort in his presence, even without looking at him. The queen nodded her consent to the young herald.

The boy inhaled sharply. His right arm, held high above his head and holding the flag in a death grip, sped downwards. No sooner had he dropped the flag, then his youthful legs were pumping against the ground to carrying him out of the path of destruction and doom.

Like any well trained warhorse, the equines were a split second ahead of their masters' commands.

When the flag raised, both beasts had stilled. Tapered ears twitched momentarily, before laying flat towards the crest of the neck. Front hooves were lifted from the ground, as the powerful muscles of the back legs catapulted them forward. They needed no guidance from their riders. The adrenaline-fueled course was something they knew all too well. The horses took as much pleasure from sprinting towards possible disaster as their knights did.

Midfield...they each felt the impact. Arthur's lance shattered ineffectively against Leon's shield. Leon's lance grazed the shield and struck the king in the chest, before it too splintered. The knight grinned as he reined his horse in, and turned back to the other end of the field.

A flag went up from the Herald, as he shouted out the score. "One point for Sir Leon!"

Reset at their respective ends, Loholt carried out a second lance to Leon. He smiled at the knight and took the reins of the horse, patting the stallion's neck to quiet him as the competitors lined up.

Once again the flag in the center was dropped.

Lisanor's fingernails dug into her brother's hand as she gripped it. She was vaguely aware of Cai's firm squeeze on her own hand as the two men reached the center. They held their breath as the blunted lance tips struck their targets.

Leon's strike caught the king square in the chest, nearly unhorsing the man. Arthur's aim was higher and his lance shattered against his commander's helm. The knight's head snapped back, but he remained on his horse as well. He felt liquid, thicker than sweat, as it dripped down his brow and into his eye. Turning back towards his starting end, his gaze flickered towards the raised score flags. Another point for him for hitting Arthur in the chest...and two points for the king when he connected with Leon's helmet.

The third and final lance for both men remained with the tied score. Leon shook his head in an attempt to clear it from the ringing that had started when Arthur's lance had caught him.

"I need a cloth." He told Loholt. The boy pulled out a clean rag and handed it to Leon, while he propped the lance against his shoulder.

Leon lifted the face visor and dabbed inside the metal, against his forehead. He wasn't surprised to see the sweat-diluted blood that appeared on the cloth.

"Sir Leon, I noticed during the previous courses, the king has been keeping his shield tight to his shoulder. His lance hitting your helm was like, more of an accident."

The blond knight's eyes narrowed and he stared across the arena at his competitor. "Is that so?" He smiled at the boy who would soon be his son. During the first two tilts, Leon's aim had been fairly typical of a 'Joust a` plaisance,' a friendly competition. Now, with the third and final lance...it was time to change tactics. Even if Arthur had meant the blow to the helm, the fact that it seemed more of a fluke meant either the king was trying to be tricky, or he was hurting. In a bold move, Leon unbuckled his shield and tossed it aside. He sent a challenging grin to Arthur down the field.

He was rewarded when Arthur removed his own shield. The wind carried the sound of Gilli's protest, though not his actual words, across the grounds.

Loholt stood by nervously. "Sir, are you..."

"Yes, I am." Leon let the blood and sweat soaked cloth fall to the ground. He lowered his visor and reached for the final lance.

Consent was given. Once more, the audible snap of the flag cut through the air. The horses reared and shot off like bolts of lightning.

Leon held the ungainly weapon skillfully; aiming for the bulk of the king's chest. The moment before his lance struck, he pulled his arm tight, causing the lance to swing slightly off-center. It was a daring move. He knew Arthur well enough to understand that if he had been keeping his shield tight, it meant that Arthur was nursing a bruise from a previous round. The problem came in trying to hit an unseen injury, and not having his lance swing so wide, that it missed the king altogether.

He felt Arthur's lance impact his chest at the same moment his own struck paydirt.

Leon reeled in the saddle, his strong thighs squeezing tightly to his horse's sides to keep his balance.

The king was not so lucky, as he went tumbling off his horse towards the ground.

Gilli rushed forward and Arthur was helped to his feet, luckily unharmed. He turned and bowed to Leon. The final score: five to three.

The knight was barely given a moment to rest before the final challenge against Sir Lancelot. As was typical of the honorable man, at a quarter of the way, Lancelot pulled in his horse and raised his lance...giving the day to Leon.

Meeting midfield, Leon raised his visor to question Lancelot.

"When the celebrations are for my wedding, I will not be so gracious." The dark-eyed knight smirked. His eyes turned towards the stands and the brunette princess sitting in them.

Leon's gaze followed, and he laughed, "Neither will I. I plan to make you work for the title of champion, especially then, my friend."

(*~*~*~*)

"Are you nervous?"

"Of course. Are you?"

"Why would I be nervous?"

"Because your baby sister is marrying the man you care about, and you're going to be leaving soon."

Cai blew through his lips. "That's no big deal," he lied.

Lisanor slapped her brother's arm.

He didn't even flinch. "You still hit like a girl," he teased. "You will be fine without me. Leon will take care of you and Loholt."

She sighed, "I know. I just...I'm going to miss you. We all are."

"You will be so busy setting up your new home, you won't have time to miss me." He kissed her cheek and stepped back to admire his sister. She was truly stunning in the simple, light peach gown that had once belonged to their mother. A sheer overlay covered the satiny silk. "You look so much like Mother. She would be proud of you."

"I wish I could remember her," Lisa whispered sadly.

"Come on, Lisa, I think your groom is waiting for you." Cai wiped away a tear from her delicate face, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He then helped her lower the simple beaded ivory veil over her face.

The two siblings entered the Great Hall, and slowly made their way through the parted crowd, towards the dais at the far end.

The king and queen sat in their thrones on top of the platform. Leon stood on the first step up from the main floor, dressed in his finery. He had foregone the chainmail in favor of a red leather jerkin over a pale shirt, and dark leather breeches.

Arthur had questioned the choice at supper the evening before, as he had chosen...despite many protests...to wear his armor at his own wedding.

_It was just the core group of friends and loved ones gathered around the table. The comment from the king had sparked a whole line of conversation that ended with Leon thoroughly embarrassed. The queen had a gift, wrapped in an indiscriminate piece of plain linen, placed in front of the knight. _

_He had opened it and felt his face flush beet red when he recognized its contents. A simple, albeit overly large, lilac colored dress laid in the wrapping, with off-white embroidered lace and ribbons festooning the neckline, bodice and flounced hem. _

_Lisanor had glanced at the dress and without missing a beat, she deadpanned, "If you really want to wear that tomorrow, then I should excuse myself and go find some trousers to fit before the ceremony." _

_Leon had taken the dress and promptly thrown it into the fireplace, amidst catcalls from Gwaine and Arthur, as Gwen explained the joke, and how it was a very similar gown she had used to sneak Leon out of Camelot during a siege._

Lisanor was grateful to see that the only thing out of place was the fresh gash on his forehead. Just above his left eyebrow, a splintered piece of Arthur's lance had managed to shoot through the visor and lodged into his forehead... thankfully missing the knight's eye.

Reaching the dais, Cai took a deep breath. He squeezed his sister's fingers before offering her hand to Leon. He reached over and patted the blond man on his shoulder. "Anything happens to her, I will kill you. You know that, right?"

Leon smiled and nodded, not trusting his voice as he took Lisanor's hand. Together, they turned towards Geoffrey.


	22. Chapter 22- Cernunnos Rising

_***peek out* HI! I'm still here!**_

_**SO- part filler, but also teaser of what's to come in this chapter. I'm not sure there was a sentence in here Nance didn't touch with her proofing, so as usual, a big shout out to her for all the hard work! **_

_**I finally have the plot outline revised to something MUCH better than what it was. **_

_**Now that my kid is in school, my muses are relaxing and I can't wait to see where they lead me. :D**_

_**Quick thanks to all of you that have reviewed the last few chapters! **_  
_**MagicGirl41 (YAH and welcome, thank you for the belated head joke btw LOL!), Tholey (OMG your reviews make me smile and think WTF are you on? LOL If Jessica ever catches up I'm going to be LMAO between the two of you. I LOVE IT!),**_  
_** Aerist (YAH, seeing your reviews always make me happy!), **_  
_**IcarusLSU (You already know what I think of you my wonderful muse, aka squirrel, catcher!), **_  
_**Nance (hehe sneaking in those girly details...I'm on to you!), **_  
_**Megami (Gets even more 'oooh'-ey and 'interesting' from here!),  
Lindsey (from chap 19- Yes, yes he did. hehe),  
Frankie (also from 19- AW! I hope this one makes you smile too...even though it's kind of angsty build-up...),  
AslansHow24 (also from 19- She wouldn't hate you...curse you maybe hehe)**_

_**Anyhoo- shortish chapter, this one. Enjo**__**y and please review!**_

* * *

"My Lady."

Lisanor glanced up to the man addressing her. It was the same young knight who had implied, weeks ago, that she was no more than a whore of Sir Leon's. She gave him a polite smile.

Sir Vortimer blushed and cast his eyes downward, wholly contrite. "I want to congratulate you on your union to Sir Leon. I also wish to beg your forgiveness, My Lady. I am truly sorry that I doubted your character. My words were hasty and misguided."

Lisanor's smile eased into one of gracious acceptance. "Thank you, Sir Knight. Your apology is accepted."

She held out her hand to the young man, and he kissed the back of it politely.

He felt, more than saw, when Sir Leon approached from behind. Leon's gray-blue eyes shifted guardedly from his bride to the young knight.

"Sir Vortimer was apologizing to me for what happened in your office," she explained. "It shows a great level of maturity in him." Having a son a few years younger than Vortimer, Lisanor was able to easily forgive the boy.

Leon smiled pleasantly, but it did not quite reach his eyes. After the incident in his office, the Knight Commander had begun looking into the boy's history. He found that Vortimer was the son of Caradoc, who had been among Uther's first knights. Leon's own father had served under High King Ambrosius, as well as Uther. Leon's great grandfather, a first generation Romano-Briton, served alongside Constantus.

In speaking confidentially about Caradoc and Vortimer, Leon had found out more of their family history from his father, than he was comfortable with. Caradoc was the grandson of Vortigern, and raised in the Saxon-lover's household after his own father, Vortimer the First, had fallen to poison...in a very similar manner it seemed, to which Ambrosius had died.

Lord Gavin retired from his commission as a knight not long after Uther came into power, due to a battle injury that weakened his sword hand. After which, he became an influential lord on Uther's council. He admitted privately to Leon, that although he was with Uther as they marched on Cambria at the time of Ambrosius' death, he secretly suspected the young prince had something to do with it. Gavin had stood next to Uther as the red dragon-shaped comet streaked through the sky. At the same time a herald arrived, bringing news of the High King's death. To this day, Gavin could still recall the shared glance between Uther and his cloeset friends. It sent chills down Gavin's spine.

Earlier that week, when Sir Vortimer returned, something seemed off. A few words with Arthur concerning it, told Leon that he was not alone in his suspicions. Sir John, who had returned with Vortimer, was now bedridden; taken by some ailment, which Alice couldn't explain, nor seem to heal.

When Gwaine and Percival finally arrived back in Camelot the day before, Leon witnessed Vortimer passing a rolled parchment to Gwaine.

He came up behind Gwaine after the young man left. "What is it, Gwaine?" He had asked.

The shorter man's eyes roved over the page, his face tightening into anger as he read the words. "Nothing." Gwaine crumbled the letter hastily and threw it across the field before stalking over to the training dummies, sword in hand.

Leon had retrieved the crumpled missive and read through it. It was from the girl Aylass, and the essence of the note said, in no uncertain terms, that her budding feelings for Gwaine were simply a result of his heroic effort to save her. Now, with some distance between them, she decided she wanted nothing more to do with him. The elder knight sighed, and tucked the note away. This wasn't the first time Gwaine had been rejected, and it more than likely wouldn't be the last. However, he could honestly say he had ever seen Gwaine take rejection so badly.

Leon held out his hand to Vortimer. "Thank you for the apology."

"Of course, Sir." The younger man bowed his head before moving off into the crowded hall.

Leon's eyes followed him as he made his way through the masses of people. The Knight Commander's office was finally in order. With the exception of when Cai was with Merlin, the trip to Snowdonia, and the more recent trip to the Perilous Lands where Tristan had been found...in all the resultant patrol reports, Leon had observed that Vortimer was always in the same company as either Cai or Bedivere. More notably, it was with whomever Loholt was riding with.

He felt Lisanor's hand slip into his.

"Is everything alright?"

He smiled down at his bride. "Yes, everything is fine." He loved her. He knew that with certainty. Although it may not be the passionate affair he had with Cai, Lisanor's compassion and understanding gave him something he never knew he was missing...a family of his own.

His eyes strayed once more to the place he had last seen Vortimer, and saw the young man speaking to Loholt. Leon couldn't shake the feeling that as long as Vortimer was around, he would have to be on his guard, especially now with a wife and son.

(*~*~*~*)

Alvarr had been correct in his assumption that the knights didn't bother covering their trail. In the tunnels, with no wind or rain to sweep them away, the tracks were still as fresh as if it hadn't been almost two weeks past, by the time the rogue sorcerer's band passed through.

Once they emerged, they could see the shadowed outline of the ancient dolmen in the distance. Making their way to it, they entered cautiously. ecent grave markers, piled up outside the entrance, gave Enmyria the chills.

Alvarr instructed them all to set up camp and not to touch anything inside the dolmen. A few days later, a group consisting mostly of knights, arrived from Camelot. Enmyria's mind was still reeling with what happened next.

Alvarr placed the golden torc around his neck. Its opening, originally made for a larger man...or something else...slipped on easily. There was a flash of power and in a matter of moments, all but two of the group were unconscious...or dead. A large man of an unusual skin tone flinched, but remained upright. He raised his axe threateningly at Alvarr, but the young knight behind him who was also unharmed by the spell, managed to knock out his companion. Alvarr and his band eyed the sandy-haired knight suspiciously.

He smiled coolly at Alvarr, and proclaimed his allegiance to the outlaw's cause.

Alvarr grinned as a snake slithered out of the young knight's pack. After speaking privately with the knight, Alvarr seemed to trust him...though Enmyria and the others couldn't fathom why.

One of the incapacitated men was Tristan, who she recognized; the other, an unknown knight of Camelot. The red-headed woman also knew the blond girl was Tristan's daughter...and someone else Alvarr wanted for his own pleasure. The other three knights were dead.

The young knight soon took leave of the band, taking an older knight who survived with him. It was rather clear once he regained consciousness, that the spell on the older knight had stripped away his senses and memory. The greenish-colored warrior was chained and gagged before he woke, as were Tristan and his daughter.

The band spent the next few weeks twiddling their thumbs, while Alvarr studied the interior of the tomb. Finally, he gathered them together, proclaiming that it was the time to open the door.

He could see the keystone and reached for it, but caught himself and stopped. Barely visible around the outside of the stone was an impression of the torc. Alvarr blinked, and reached out his hand to feel it. The stone felt smooth and he realized the indentation was magical in nature, and it was his ability seeing it; not actually his eyes. Placing the torc against the imprint, the stone absorbed the golden ring and the massive door began to crumble away. SSolid rock became nothing more than golden dust…disappearing into nothingness.

Alvarr stepped into the main room of the dolmen, and was surprised to find himself inside a forest. The walls and ceiling were covered with ivy. Trees flanked the far wall. In the center, stood a massive throne, living and organic from the branches of the trees and flora. Cross-legged on the throne, sat the man-beast from Alvarr's dreams. The massive antlers on his head rose with more majesty than any crown...of any king...the outlaw had ever witnessed. The torc dropped to the floor once the door was fully gone. Alvarr picked it up and moved towards the throne. He could feel the eyes of creatures staring out of the shadows upon him, as he moved. He was human; he was not one of them. Only his magic and his willingness to serve the Cernunnos, gave him sanctuary.

Cernunnos held out his hand and accepted the torc from Alvarr. "As promised, human, you will have your reward. Come and stand by my side, as we begin our preparations to reclaim the land which was once mine."

Alvarr bowed and grinned wickedly, ignoring the people behind him and the otherworldly creatures that were coming out of the woods.

Across the lands of Albion, a silent wave spread through the deepest recesses of the forests, the hidden depths of the lakes, and secluded caves in the mountains; awaking mystical and magical alike.

The time was at hand. Cernunnos, Lord of Beasts, had risen.

(*~*~*)

_When all the world has gone to sleep_  
_The hunters to the forest creep_  
_From out 'the wild wood comes the call:_  
_"The hunt is life ... the hunt is all ..."_

_An ancient forest beckons me_  
_To run skyclad amongst the trees_  
_My lusty spear, it cannot wait_  
_The gentle deer to penetrate_

_Cernunnos, Lord of Beasts, he grunts:_  
_"Come join us for the Wylde Hunt! ..."_

_~Lyrics from Omnia's Wylde Hunt (not mine)_

* * *

_**OOOH and there you have it...next chapter is going to jump ahead a bit, because otherwise this would be another 80 chapter monster. Hope you are still reading and enjoying this series! THANK YOU! *air kisses* It should probably be up this weekend sometime if things work out.**_


	23. Chapter 23- Moving Forward

_**AN: skipping forward with this chapter about a year and three months time...**_

* * *

"Merlin." Leon greeted his friend, coming into the warlock's workroom, slash office, deep in the Hall of Records. Over a year had passed since Merlin was given the previously secret room. The space was cluttered with all sorts of things, magical and otherwise. The warlock and his wife had been working with others at cataloging many of the treasures, deep within the vaults below the city. As a result, much of it ended up in here, where Merlin was determined to find out what he could about each object.

Unfortunately, there was a side effect to all of Merlin's knowledge-seeking...and sometimes it ended up creating great entertainment for the occupants of Camelot. He was careful to not unleash anything that could truly hurt anyone...except himself.

The once raven-haired man looked up with a friendly smile, from a pile of scroll cases near his desk. Saving Arthur's life years before had taken a toll on the young man, physically ageing him beyond his years and lightening his hair with shots of gray. "Leon! What brings you here today?"

"The queen asked, if I would come and collect you for the Round Table. Also...I was wondering if you've heard anything?" It had also been over a year since Leon had last seen his love, Cai. Leon was now married to Cai's sister Lisanor, with a growing family to show for it. The love and friendship between the two was strong, but recently their relationship had become strained, as they both felt a void growing at the missing piece that was the man they loved.

"No, actually I haven't. I have been contemplating heading out towards Helva and see if I can find Alator to get an update."

The clockwork owl, on a perch behind Merlin's desk let out with a low ominous whistle. It gave Leon chills, even though he had no idea of it's meaning.

"I was getting to that, thank you...No, I still haven't spoken with the king. My goodness, Bubo, have you been taking nagging lessons from my wife?"

A rather suspicious raspberry sound issued from the bird. It caused Leon to chuckle. "What are you wanting to speak with Arthur about?"

"Well, I wanted see if anyone has heard anything about Alvarr." He said.

"The sorcerer? He hasn't been seen nor heard from in a while...not since he burnt Tristan's house down."

"I know."

"Aside from my concern about Alvarr...I realized we haven't heard or seen Bran and Tristan for a while as well."

"Yes, I would like to find out their status, too. Nothing has been heard from that party since Sir Vortimer returned. Sir Gwaine is still pining away for that girl."

When Vortimer and John returned from accompanying Bran and the others to the Perilous Lands, nothing appeared amiss. Vortimer had brought back with him, a note from Aylass to Sir Gwaine that basically told the roguish knight his advances were unwanted. Leon had attempted to ask John about the missive, but the man had taken ill on their journey, and died a couple of weeks after returning to Camelot. During his last days, the knight's mind was addled and weak, unable to process any information of relevance.

A couple of months later, a patrol had been sent out that way. They found the tunnel, that went through the nearly impassable mountain ridge surrounding the Perilous Lands, had collapsed. The patrol had tried to cross into the lands by other means, but it seemed they were thwarted at every turn by odd creatures and maze-like terrain. Attempting to gain access to the bridge that lay within Mercian lands, had been a near suicide mission.

King Bayard of Mercia did not take kindly to the intrusion on his lands, and as such, that path was closed to Camelot as well. Unfortunately, any further investigation was pushed to the background. More pressing concerns in Camelot held the king's attention.

"There has been no recent communication or reports from King Bayard," Leon stated. The suspicious lack of...anything...from the Mercian king worried him. A herald from King Gaheris of Lothian mentioned a similar concern, when he arrived the day before.

"I can tell you, Leon, I've got a bad feeling about all of this."

"We should go speak to Arthur."

The bird piped up with a four-note tune that sounded suspiciously, even to Leon, like 'I told you so.'

**(*~*~*~*)**

The Round Table gathered together in the Great Hall.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows on the south wall. Arthur turned his head slowly and scanned the room. Eight seats of his council sat empty. He had to smile inwardly...his council, his Round Table...a tradition that started so many years ago with five knights, four of them suspected commoners, an old physician, his love, and the world's worst servant...

The empty seats were reserved for members of Arthur's Knights who were currently absent. Sir Lancelot was with his mother in Caerleon. The attacks from the sea by Gaulish Pirates were increasing as of late, and Queen Annis had requested her son's presence, as they prepared to deal with them. Three others were out on standard patrols. Prince Bran of Corbenic had not been heard from, since he and Tristan had left to chase Alvarr. It was the same with Cai, who had left to train under the Order of the Catha.

One seat had been purposely left vacant, at Merlin's behest. It was a symbol of those who kept the safety of the king and kingdom as their first priority, but had not wished for, or could not risk, the recognition without compromising themselves. It was something Merlin had done for years, before everything from his magic to his family roots, had been revealed.

"Le Siège Périlleux", or "The Perilous Seat," it was called. Someone...Arthur's mind went directly to Gwaine...had started the rumor that anyone who sat in it and was found unworthy, would die horribly. The rogue prince of Lothian had a penchant for storytelling, much like his sister. However, while the Lady Clarissant's stories were meant for children, Gwaine's were told when the drink was flowing in the tavern.

Arthur looked to his right and scowled at another empty seat...Merlin's. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Everyone available was ready to begin and as usual, Merlin was...late. However, then Arthur's gaze landed on Sir Leon's chair and noticed, it too, was empty.

As if on cue, the two men entered the room. Merlin was in his dark over-robe, with silver and gold embroidery around the collar. But other than that, and the occasional stains or scorch marks, it was rather plain. Following behind them was Bubo, who flew above their heads and alighted on the back of Merlin's seat.

"Glad you decided to join us, Merlin," Arthur said, dryly. His expression changed as he looked over his council again. He smiled politely, "Let us begin, shall we?"

**(*~*~*~*)**

Arthur felt the weight of his crown, heavy on his brow, as he dismissed his Round Table Council. "Merlin. Leon." He called to the two men, as the others filtered out of the room. They paused and moved closer to Arthur.

"I'm sorry, I was late...again...but..."

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur said. "As you heard in the meeting, Essex is threatening the southeastern borders, near the mountains surrounding Corbenic. I need the two of you to ride out immediately. Take messages to our outposts and garrisons, as well as to Southron. Their borders lie along Essex as well. I want you to assess the situations first hand. We can't afford to waste any time. Helva is on the way. See if you can find Cai. We need to start rounding up our allies and troops, in case the situation turns into something more than just minor border skirmishes, before the spring comes."

They knew what was at stake, but Merlin couldn't help get a small bit of whining in. "...That means we'll miss..."

"Yes, Merlin. It does." Arthur snapped, cutting the man off. His tone left no room for further argument. The two men bowed to the king, before leaving.

Not long after the king's return from the north, Mercia had threatened an end to the peace. After a few minor conflicts with Camelot, Bayard began to focus more on his borders with Lothian. Yet, the recent reports from King Gaheris stated that even those borders were quiet. Gaheris was now planning on a push to overtake some of Bayard's lands. The herald who arrived, had brought a sealed missive for Arthur, asking for Camelot's support if it did turn into a full scale war.

His own father would have jumped at the idea of Lothian and Mercia battling each other, especially if there was possible gain for Camelot. Arthur had a different perspective, one that focused more on peace and treatiesPerhaps it was a lesson he had learned during his, nearly a year, of living on borrowed time. Maybe Merlin was rubbing off on him, or it might have been something else altogether.

Conflicts on three sides...It was not something he wanted to think about. He would deal with the neighboring kingdoms to the northeast and southeast. However, he had to trust Caerleon and Nemeth to take care of things near the Sea of Meredor, where invaders from the continent were making a bid for the shores of Albion. The two kingdoms had recently solidified an alliance with the marriage of Lancelot and Mithian. It had been a grand affair, and in the jousting tournament to celebrate, Leon had kept his word and gave his friend a challenge. Lancelot did win the day, but it was hard earned.

Arthur shook his head as he walked away from the Great Hall. Gilli following at his heels like a proper servant, although the entire realm now realized there was more to the young man than what the king claimed...though no one would dare mention it out loud.

The king was thankful for the younger man. In secret, Gilli had finally obtained a proper knighthood not a month back, after he thwarted an assassination attempt while the king was accompanying a patrol. He still had some trouble reading...and there was no way Arthur would ever allow him to help prepare his speeches. Overall, though, Gilli's worth had been proven many times over.

Passing through the corridors, Arthur allowed the stresses of running the kingdom to fall away, as he approached the doors leading to his chambers.

Giggling...like tiny bells...echoed through the doorway. Arthur thought about the upcoming celebrations Merlin had alluded to. The first anniversary of Duran's birth. It was a pity that the warlock and knight would miss the festivities, but it couldn't be helped. Duty called and there was no one the king trusted more than them.

In the bright sunshine that filtered through the window of the beautiful late autumn day, Gwen sat on a thick rug spread across the floor. Next to her, pulling at the fringed ends, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world, sat a little boy. His hair was as dark as his mothers, even though his skin was a bit lighter. His eyes stood out in contrast, a bright hazel-blue...the same shade as the king's.

Arthur smiled as he joined his wife and son in their play.

* * *

_**AN: The Perilous Seat...yep another piece of Arthurian legends twisted to my own use.**_

_**It was an empty seat at the Round Table, left empty at Merlin's behest. It was said that only the Anointed Knight, who would be the one to return to Arthur bearing the Holy Grail, could sit in it. All others would die horribly. In some accounts this knight is Percival, in later works it is Sir Galahad, son of Lancelot... hehe ( I just can't help myself!)**_

_**Okay, so...I didn't want this to turn into a HUGE fic like Cauldron did, and I thought it would be best to just skip over some things to get back to the plot. (still looking at about another 30 chapters possibly) But it should start getting exciting real soon. :-) The outline is done with only a few minor issues. Shout out to my "Pigeon-toed Pegleg Puffin" Proofreader: Nance! **_

_**Megami: There ya go! Cute little baby Duran Pendragon hehe**_

_**IcarusLSU: Thanks for keeping me on track!**_

_**Paradox Predator: YAH! New reviewer! It was actually Sir John's memory that was messed with...Bran just got knocked out and is currently MIA. **_

_**Tholey: Vortimer does sound like Voldemort...maybe they're related? ooooh...wait! wrong fic for that LOL It makes me happy to spoil you readers when I can :)**_

_**Nance: hehe lots more little twists on the way! Hmmm may have to have a flashback of your last question LOL **_

**_Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming and I'll keep these chapters coming! (no I'm not threatening to stop writing or anything, just trying to say how much my muse appreciates hearing your feedback)_**


	24. Chapter 24- Past and Future

_Hush Now Dear Children,_

_It Must Be This Way_

_To Weary Of Life And Deceptions_

_Rest Now My Children_

_For Soon We'll Away_

_into The Calm And The Quiet_

_"Hush Now Dear Children" from the movie Hocus Pocus*_

* * *

_The child laid on the oversized bed, blue eyes fascinated by the shadow play cast by the moonlight through the windows. The way the light fell across the child looked like the antlers of a stag._

_Three adults stood at the other end of the room, speaking in hushed tones. A king, a queen, and another man._

_The queen was crying._

_The king's face was filled with anger, and in his hand he held a lance._

_The other man appeared as an empty shell of himself._

_Suddenly, the scene shifted and showed the man in a forest, his face obscured by darkness. Quickly as it came, it changed back to the room._

_The man's blue eyes turned mournfully towards the bed._

_The child was gone._

Morgana's head snapped up.

"What did you see?" Vivienne asked her daughter.

The two women had journeyed to the Isle of the Blessed together. The elder woman thought it would be a good place for Morgana to begin delving into some of the other aspects of the magic granted to a Priestess of the Triple Goddess, as it had been where she was taught.

Aithusa had reluctantly gone with Kilgharrah to learn more about her own kind, and be taught secrets that only the dragons knew. That had been four months ago. Merlin was kept busy by the king with meetings and research into the vaults. For a time, Morgana had assisted her husband, but she was growing bored. The deep mysteries of the underground caverns didn't hold as much excitement for her, as they did for Merlin.

The people of Camelot had begun to accept her presence among them, for the most part. However, there were still a few holdouts who taunted her outside the walls of the main castle. A girl of nearly ten, came up to Morgana one day, smiling as she approached. The grin quickly turned into a look of disgust and the girl spat on Morgana.

Arthur had the child punished for her insolence against a noble. He was not harsh with her, but simply gave the girl over to the cook to work as a scullery maid for a time. Her reasons for her actions were made clear at her sentencing. The girl's mother had been among those in the courtyard when Morgause's archers, commanded by Morgana, had fired upon the crowd.

The incident had been enough to prompt Morgana into a desire to escape the city for a while. Although Vivienne had only been initiated as a priestess shortly before her marriage to Gorlois, she remembered enough of her training to convince Morgana to accompany her to the isle; where they could continue the training started at Dinas Emrys, in peace.

That was nearly two months ago, and Morgana's visions were now at her command. She couldn't control the messages they sent, only when to see them. Most of the time, they were benign snippets of everyday life. The one she just witnessed however, left her filled with dread.

"We must return to Camelot. Arthur's son is in danger..."

**(*~*~*~*)**

"Hungry?" He chuckled maliciously.

"No." She stated firmly. Her hands trembled as she held the pitcher and slowly poured the wine into the man's cup. Her eyes flitted to a knife sitting next to a plate of meat, in front of the man she served. It wasn't fear that made her shake, nor lack of proper nutrition, although she was indeed hungry, after being half-starved for the better part of a year. It was cold anger that created the physiological symptom in her body. She hated this existence, and longed to be rid of her oppressors, by any means necessary.

The man scowled. For over a year now, Alvarr had employed various tactics to get the girl to bend to his will. He hadn't taken advantage of her however...that was declared off-limits by the one Alvarr served.

Cernunnos was not a being to be crossed. The massive antlers growing from his skull seemed ungainly, but they appeared to flawlessly fit the large man-like creature. Early in their partnership, Alvarr had tried to persuade Aylass to his bed, but the ancient god had put his foot down. The blond girl reminded Cernunnos of his daughter, a half-fairy child, from ages long past. At first, he treated her with kindness, until she took advantage of his generosity and tried to escape.

Cernunnos was far too forgiving, for Alvarr's senses. After a few more thwarted attempts, and the Lord of Beast's patience was running out. Instead of punishing the girl, he began using her father to teach her a lesson. Alvarr thought of many vulgar ways he could show her how to behave, but still Cernunnos denied him.

She was forced to work as a serving girl, bringing them their wine and cleaning up their messes. He might have locked her away, but his weakness for wanting to see his daughter in the girl's face, kept her out of the dungeons.

Enymira held out her cup for the girl to fill. She was sick of these games. She longed for the life she had, before Alvarr had taken a sudden interest in freeing this ancient god. A life on the road, as outlaws, wasn't a glorious existence, but it was exciting. The relationship she shared with the sorcerer was fueled by a lust for life.

The red-head didn't deny her lover's lust for anything...be it riches, or other women, because she knew he would always come back to her bed.

They had been travelling through Mercian lands and stumbled upon a cave. It was in that place where Alvarr had begun to receive the dreams of the riches underneath Camelot, and when Cernunnos had first appeared to him. She didn't know about any of this until much later. It was after the door to the tomb had been opened, did he finally confess to her after drinking heavily. He muttered something about how glorious the dreams were; of having the gold piled around him, and the women at his beck and call. He professed that, initially, the blond daughter of Tristan wasn't among them...but how amazing it would be to add her into the mix; a blond, a brunette, and a fiery-haired lady at his feet...worshipping him as a god.

Because of her bloodline, he would take Morgana as his wife, so that he could rule over Camelot for Cernunnos. _"That is the the heart of this land, and where Cernunnos would be the strongest. He only needs the willing blood of a Pendragon to unlock it. Then, I would be seneschal over the city. He doesn't care about the wealth. So it would be all mine. Just as I dreamt it..."_

The cawing of a crow broke through the silence that settled around the table. Enymira watched as the hideous antlered man unrolled a note, which he had untied from the bird's leg.

He smiled wickedly, "It appears our time is at hand. The two most loyal to King Arthur have left the city. With all the festivities surrounding the anniversary of the birth of the prince, and my pet inside the castle, it will be easy to gain access and secure the child."

Alvarr raised his cup in a toast to Cernunnos. Enymira did the same, catching Aylass' eye over the rim, as she clumsily knocked her plate to the floor.

"Florie, clean that up!" The god called out to Aylass. Many times he used that name for her without a second thought. He scowled with disdain at Enymira. "Foolish woman. Alvarr, I hope when our plans are fulfilled, the woman you wish to take as a queen is much more graceful than this homely little peasant of yours."

Alvarr smiled ruthlessly. "I assure you, My Lord, she is."

While the two men were wrapped up in their elation about their upcoming plans, they missed the point where Enymira slipped a dagger into her napkin, and set it on top of the pile of ruined food and dishes in Aylass' hands.

**(*~*~*~*)**

"Aylass, you need to go."

"But I can't leave you, Father. They'll torture you more if I try to escape." The blond maiden had taken advantage of Cernunnos' good mood, to request a visit to her father in the dungeons. He was shackled and chained to the wall, in the same cell of the seaside keep where Bran and Morgause had kept the Lady Clarissant.

Bran was in the same position, though his chains were much stronger. Not only were his wrists, ankles and throat shackled to the stone, but the chains were also wrapped around his arms, pinning them to his sides. The Prince of Corbenic knew the castle well, and the strength he possessed made him a formidable opponent for the god. During the first months of their capture, the green-tinged prince had nearly escaped. Alvarr was certain he had killed the man at least twice over, before they realized that Bran was truly blessed by some manner of magic.

Aylass knew the source of the prince's apparent immortality laid with the cauldron; still being kept by a friend of Bran's, just outside of the Perilous Lands. When they were riding with him towards the Lands, she had managed to piece together the clues from speaking with him. She doubted that anyone else understood that, and she certainly wasn't going to tell any of their captors of her suspicions.

"You remind me so much of your mother." He managed a weak smile. "I have been lost without her. Your only hope, the only hope for the entire realm...is for you to get out of here and warn them. I'm dying, child. Go. Find that knight who fancied you and make a life for yourself...and I will be with my beautiful Isolde again; watching over you."

"I thought you didn't approve of Sir Gwaine."

Tristan chuckled softly, but it soon turned into a hacking cough, that brought up more than just phlem and air. Once his breathing had settled, he continued, "I didn't approve of the idea that my little girl had grown up. Please Aylass, I beg you...if you find a chance...you need to take it."

Biting back her tears, she nodded. Tristan smiled before slipping into unconsciousness.

Bran softly called to her. Aylass glanced towards the door of the cell. The guard was a goblin-like creature who was easily distracted at times. Just before entering, she had told him that she saw something shiny, coming from the back of one of the cells on her way in. Being opportunistic about the thought of riches, the creature had locked her in and bounded off down the corridor.

Thankfully, the foul little beast hadn't returned yet, so she made her way over to Bran.

"I helped to build this castle. I know all of its secrets, girl. Listen closely to what I tell you..."

**(*~*)**

The goblin had come back in a foul mood, eyeing Aylass with derision. "Time's up, girly. There be no gold in that room, nor any other in 'dis place."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time. My eyes are not as good as yours, and hunger has made me see things that are not there." She put on a sorrowful face while she spoke to the creature. "I will not waste your time again."

He snorted as he opened the cell, and ushered her out into the hall.

**(*~*~*~*)**

"Tell me again, Gwaine...why did we bring you along?" Leon asked in exasperation.

"Because you value my company?"

Leon and Merlin glanced at each other. They were two days out from Camelot and approaching the town of Helva. Gwaine had surprised them on the morning of their departure, and had insisted on tagging along.

"It couldn't be because you know we are planning to ride to the border of Corbenic after this, and you feel you might come across some fair maiden to either rescue, or get answers from?" Merlin asked cheekily.

Gwaine glared at his so-called friend. At first, after receiving the message from Aylass over a year ago, he was angry. That soon changed to a bout of depressive drinking, of which his sister...nearing the end of her pregnancy, and waddling ungainly into the tavern...had literally slapped him out of. The stressful situation had brought on the first pangs of labor, and Clarissant gave birth to two small babes that night...a boy and a girl.

Something had finally clicked, and Gwaine was now on a mission to get answers. He had led every patrol to the border, attempting to find a way through. He would rant to Arthur, upon each return, about how unnatural the barrier between the kingdoms appeared. While the king took his knight seriously, he also had more pressing matters of state, including Duran's birth, to deal with. Gwaine nearly lost his temper and was sorely tempted to tell the King of Camelot where to shove his red cape.

It took three days in a cell for the roguish knight to cool off, but the incident had soon become a cause for teasing the flamboyant man. The majority of the time since then, Gwaine had taken it all in stride, trying to play off his concern.

Leon was simply uneasy at first, at the thought of Gwaine accompanying them. He wasn't sure how his reunion with Cai would play out. He worried about his secret life, but he soon remembered that Gwaine knew...although the man hadn't brought up anything about it, not since that one mention in Leon's office. None of them had.

They entered Helva and made their way to a small temple, dedicated the practitioners of the Old first glance, it appeared to be a thatch-roofed hut, no different from many of the others in the town. The brown mud walls and shuttered windows gave away nothing of the mysteries that laid within. Only the talismans, hung outside the hut, appeared to be more elaborate than many of the others in the small village. A symbol painted on the door, in the bright blue woad paint, stood out in stark contrast, and a statue of a goddess guarded the entrance.

Leon and Gwaine waited with the horses outside, while Merlin entered. A few minutes later, the warlock emerged. He verbally thanked whoever was inside, before climbing back onto his bay gelding. "They'll send a bird to Alator, and most likely, he will meet us in the forest to the southwest and guide us the remainder of the way."

**(*~*~*~*)**

Merlin felt the life pulsing through the forest as they rode deeper into the trees. He felt giddy and light-hearted.

Gwaine laughed, "Don't be turning into no bird now!" He explained to Leon about the first time they had entered the sacred ground near the shrine on Cai's lands. Gwaine chuckled at how Merlin had wanted to turn into a bird then and there.

Since then, Merlin had mastered the art of the change, but even under Aithusa's tutelage, Merlin's ability to successfully fly had yet to be perfected.

"I've gotten much better at it!" The warlock protested.

Leon snorted, "Oh yes, like when you nearly snapped your neck flying into the wall of the castle?"

"The wind currents caught me off guard! I've been practicing more..."

"Merlin, friend, that was just last week." Gwaine reminded him.

"Perhaps men were simply not meant to fly." A man's voice interrupted from behind them.

"Alator!" Merlin turned in his saddle. He slid off his horse and walked towards the Catha Priest, with his arm extended.

The bald man bowed before clasping the offered hand. "Welcome, Lord Emrys. I assume you have come to collect Sir Cai?"

"Yes, we have. I know his training may not be completed, but Arthur wishes to..."

"Cai has seen the coming conflict, as have others. He is nearly ready, only tonight remains before he is named as a Priest of our order."

"I thought you were just going to help him with his magic?" Leon's eyebrows furrowed.

"And so we have. The Goddess Catha called to him after his arrival. It was Her choice he followed, in his decision to become one of us."

The three men shared a look of apprehension. "Can we speak to him?"

Alator smiled, "He will be unable to answer any of your questions for the time being. However, we can allow one of you to see him." The Catha Priest motioned to the surrounding forest. A woman and two other men stepped out from the trees.

Gwaine shrugged, "I'll stay back with the horses."

Leon and Merlin glanced at each other. The warlock desperately wanted to see the inner workings of the Catha, but he motioned to Leon instead.

The woman stepped forward and placed a blindfold across Leon's eyes. She took his arm and began to lead him into the forest.

Alator turned to Merlin. "The day will come, Lord Emrys, when you will be able to see our shrine. These two men will stay with you while you wait." The priest began to follow Leon and the woman.

"Well, guess we can set up camp." Merlin sighed. He looked over the two men, dressed in leather armor. Their stoic faces gave nothing away. "Looks like we're not going anywhere for a while."

"Oh, come on, Merlin. We can take these blokes." Gwaine whispered, with a flick of his hair.

Merlin hemmed and hawed, "Probably, but I don't think we should test that for the time being." He winked conspiratorially at Gwaine. "We can do it tomorrow, if Leon doesn't return."

* * *

**AN: Thanks as always to the puffing puffin of proofreading, Nance! And IcarusLSU for beta reading for flow.**

_***youtube the user: Erutan Music for an absolutely haunting and beautiful version of this song (and my personal favorite cover of it)**_

_**I am basing the Catha Religion of Alator from the series, on the Etruscan's civilization which existed up until around the 2nd century BC, in Italy and Greece. (Also where the name for the Tuscan region comes from). In their polytheistic society, there was a deity named Catha.**_

**_Pardox: Oh! Welcome back to reviewing then! So glad to see you! Thanks!_**

**_Nance: hehe I have fun with Bubo, I hope to convince my muse he needs more scenes...perhaps something with George is in order._**

**_Megami: hehe I thought you would like that!_**

**_IcarusLSU: only you know how many I go through deciding which to twist. I can't wait to delve into more!_**

**_Thanks all for reading, favs, follows, and reviews! Please leave a comment if you would! The next chapter is already written and in the process of editing...and let me tell you, I had a heck of a lot of fun bringing back some old-style Gwaine and Merlin bromance in it._**


	25. Chapter 25- Old Times

_**Quick Note: I had a HELL of a lot of fun writing the end of this chapter ;D and someone prepare to do CPR...I think Tholey is going to need it.**_

* * *

Leon wasn't sure how he managed to navigate over the uneven forest floor without his eyesight. His heart was racing and he barely managed to control his urge to rip the cloth off his head. He could hear chanting in the distance as they walked. He felt a change take place when the forest seemed to fall away, and he was led into a cavern or stone building. Cooler air engulfed him and sent goosebumps racing across his skin. He heard a door open, before being led through it. The woman removed the blindfold, and Leon blinked as his eyes adjusted to the candlelit antechamber.

"He is currently undergoing the final phase of his training, and has taken a vow of silence for the duration. Do not expect him to answer you with words." Her voice was heavily accented, though Leon couldn't place where she might have been from.

He nodded his understanding and she backed out of the door, closing it securely behind her. Leon turned around in the room. One lone occupant sat on his knees in front of a brazier; bare-chested, with his head bowed in prayer. Tattooed symbols ran down his back and across his shoulders. Dark hair hung around the man's face, obscuring his features.

Even if Leon hadn't known who he was brought to, he would have recognized the man anywhere. "Cai..." he breathed out, moving forward towards the brazier.

The man didn't move...didn't even acknowledge Leon's presence, as he sat deep in his meditation.

The knight felt ill at ease. Even having no magic of his own, he could still feel the way it permeated through the space.

Between the small fire and the man, sat a bowl. Leon wrinkled his nose in disgust at what appeared to be the entrails of an animal inside it. Not knowing what else to do, he moved to the other side of the brazier and sat cross-legged on the stone floor. He stifled a sigh and glanced around the room.

There were no windows and the stone lent itself to being more part of a cave structure, than an actual building. A vent hole near on the ceiling allowed the smoke within the brazier to rise, and fresh air to come in. On many of the walls were paintings of various scenes. Some appeared almost domestic in nature, while others illustrated heated battles. Others showed men and women in various acts that, while perfectly natural, were frowned upon in public society. A few of the paintings caused Leon's eyes to widen. They were similar to the previous ones, but with a twist he never thought to see beyond the secret he shared with Cai.

Swallowing down his shock he turned back towards the other man, and was met with green eyes and a coy smile. He felt his tension fall away and returned the smile. "Hello."

Cai's lips pinched together, and his eyes glistened with happiness. He nodded a greeting.

"Well, here I am, able to speak without you interrupting me, because you're not ready to talk about things...and I can't think of anything to say at the moment."

The corners of Cai's eyes crinkled with mirth and he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing.

"Let me guess, the whole 'vow of silence' was going just fine, until I arrived?"

Cai nodded rapidly. He reached around the brazier, offering his bare hand to Leon.

The knight took it in his own gloved hand, and gave a squeeze. He released it quickly as the door opened. He saw the quickly masked disappointment in his companion's eyes.

"Cai, if you are ready, we can begin." Alator stated, poking his head into the room.

Closing his eyes, Cai took a steadying breath and looked down into the bowl of entrails before him. Seeming to come to some sort of decision, he rose to his feet in one fluid motion. He motioned towards the door, indicating that Leon should join him.

The knight smiled and stood up. "When we get back to Camelot, you really need to teach your sister this silence thing. That woman has been driving me crazy."

Cai bit his bottom lip He couldn't wait to be done with the ritual that would name him as one of the Catha, and be released from his silence. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask his friend.

**(*~*~*~*)**

Leon stood by a tree with his arm wrapped around himself. An involuntary shudder coursed through his body. His breathing came in short ragged gasps. He couldn't get over what he had witnessed. To any normal man, what the Catha put Cai through...as he tested his magic, his stamina, and his will...would have been torture. He wasn't sure if he knew another man alive who could have gone through that. At the end of it all, Cai was given another tattoo on the back of his neck, right along the ridge of the spine. The firelight danced along the instruments, creating long shadows that made the tools appear worse than they probably were.

The man he thought he knew, took it with barely a flinch, and Leon saw other marks ringing Cai's neck. They were similar to the ones Alator displayed, but obviously fresher. Cai rose up, silhouetted against the night, and grinning proudly, as if he had just won some sort of prize...'Perhaps he had,' Leon thought to himself.

Aside from the obvious distress he felt at watching Cai go through the tests, the weight of the magic in the air was strong enough to almost taste. It felt dark and foreign on his tongue. Drums and rattles; harps and psalteries; and anything else these Catha people could find, made noise as the bonfire burned and they danced...mostly naked...around it.

The crunch of leaves and twigs on the forest floor snapped him to attention. He turned and saw Cai walking in the night shadows towards him, purposefully making his presence known.

Leon nodded stiffly in greeting. "I...I don't even know how to describe what I saw back there."

"Then don't." Cai offered, finally released from his vow. The darker-haired man wore nothing but his trousers and boots. His hair hung down over his ears and curled just above the level of his shoulders. His body still glistened with sweat from the exertion of the trials he faced. His arms were crossed over his chest and he approached Leon slowly. "I don't expect you to understand, nor can I explain it."

Leon put his back to the tree he was leaning against and studied the man before him. Cai was almost a stranger as he stood there in a quiet and self-assured confidence, that Leon didn't know existed in him. "How could you allow that to happen to you?"

Cai smiled and stepped closer. His shoulders were relaxed, and he acted as if he had just come from supper, instead of the 'tests' that Leon had just witnessed. "Because it is the path that was given to me. I know now, my maternal grandfather was actually a follower of the Catha...It is a part of who I am. What I have been allowed to learn...it goes beyond the magic I set out to harness. It has taught me that my brother's death wasn't in vain, and that there is so much more to..." Cai appeared lost in thought for a moment. He drew a deep breath that filled his lungs and glanced off into the forest. "...well...life."

"Being willingly tortured teaches you about life?" Leon's eyes widened.

Laughing, Cai stepped closer and unfolded his arms. "Why do you think it was torture? It was a test I have been training myself for, this past year. Very few outside of the community have ever been allowed to witness the final mark being given."

"So I should feel privileged to see such barbarity?"

"I am now a Priest of the Catha, and I have never felt more at home in my own skin, as I do now." He reached up and wrapped his hand around Leon's neck. "I wish I could share with you what I feel...the peace this decision has brought me."

Leon felt his breath coming easier, simply from hearing Cai's voice. He allowed himself to be pulled forward into a kiss. Breathing in the musky scent of his lover, he smiled,

"You are already doing that, my friend."

Cai pulled back with a grin of satisfaction. "It's good to see you again."

"You as well." The blond knight found himself breathless once again, but this time with a smile on his face.

"So, what were you saying about Lisanor when you came in before?" Cai asked, beginning to walk away and expecting Leon to follow.

"It is nothing, really. She used to be so quiet and soft spoken. I think marriage has given her a boost in confidence...or something."

Cai chuckled and looked back at Leon. "She's pregnant?...isn't she?"

Pausing mid-stride, Leon blinked, "No. Actually...I mean...she was, but we have a son now. He will see his third moon this coming week." His voice was filled with amazement and joy. "We've called him Jaufre, in honor of your and Lisanor's great-grandfather."

"I'm an uncle again?" He snickered, "Don't worry. If it's anything like when she had Loholt, she'll be back to normal around the time he reaches a year. How is Loholt doing?"

Leon beamed with pride and continued after his companion. "He's a promising young man. I plan to name him Squire of the Body soon. He has excelled in each discipline...just as Arthur did. However, he has one thing Arthur didn't have at his age."

"What would that be?"

"Humility." They snickered and continued walking, until they reached a small river. The moonlight sparkled across the water where it flowed over the rocks.

Cai stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, before bending down next to it. He started to use the water to wash away the sweat from his body.

"Inside the room, where I was first brought...there were paintings on the wall." Leon began tentatively. "A few of them...appeared...well, they were not what I expected to see."

"Like us, you mean?" The darker man smirked and Leon nodded. Cai continued, "When you were in the temple on my estate, a dragon told me that a long time ago, my 'inclinations' were not something that was frowned upon. I couldn't understand, truly, what she meant at that time.

"The faith of the Etruscan people, from which the goddess, Catha, came, existed long before the beliefs of the Holy Land were brought to the Romans. The Romans then brought their faith here, but in escaping persecution, so did some of the Etruscans. The Order of Catha still holds many of their ancestors' beliefs in that there is no set doctrine to follow. Right and wrong must be determined by the individual through prayer and guidance.

"Our feelings for each other are neither right nor wrong, therefore there is nothing to be judged. The priests here, and the people of this community, believe very much the same way."

"So...I should tell your sister goodbye, and just move out here with you then?" He snorted at the look on Cai's face. "I'm joking! Actually, Lisanor and I have managed to get along fairly well, despite the strain."

"What strain is that?" He asked, becoming a bit concerned for his sister.

"Well, in less than the span of three months, she felt as if she had lost both of her brothers. Her whole life changed...Marriage of course, and then she was pregnant. She's missed you this past year. We all have..."

"With my training under Alator now complete. I'll be returning with you."

"I find it rather odd, that we happened to arrive here on the same day as you going through...that. Did Alator send word to Merlin somehow?"

"No. I've been in deep meditation for a while, awaiting a sign that it was time. Your arrival was that message."

Leon seemed skeptical about the explanation.

"There is nothing that is done, that is not the manifestation of the Gods' wills."

Cocking his head to the side, the blond man looked curiously upon his friend, as if seeing him for the first time. "I think this new 'religious' Cai, is going to take some getting used to. I really hope you haven't taken a vow of celibacy, along with the silence deal." He splashed the dark-haired man with water from the river, a teasing grin on his face.

Cai arched an eyebrow and met the smirk with one of his own, before tackling his lover to the ground.

**(*~*~*~*)**

Gwaine's eyes shifted upward. "Do you hear that?"

Merlin nodded, "Drums."

"Rather rude of them to not invite us to the party." The roguish man had a sly grin.

"No, Gwaine."

"Aw, c'mon...I can distract these guys and you can change into a bird. At least fly over and check it out. Make sure they're not using Leon as a human sacrifice or something..."

"I don't think these people do that."

"Really? Remember what happened to Gaius years ago?"

"That was a completely different situation..."

"...but with the same people." Gwaine pointed out.

Merlin sighed, realizing he wasn't going to win this argument. "Fine, I'll check it out...just to make sure they aren't sacrificing him."

Gwaine clasped Merlin's shoulder. "Alright! Do you want to use your magic on them, or shall we try a distraction?"

"Although I could try to take them out, the Catha are trained in how to resist a lot of magic. I don't think it would go over very well for Camelot's relations with them, if the great Emrys were to accidently start a battle of spells with these people. Let's try something more mundane first."

"Sounds good." The knight rose and stretched in an exaggerated motion, groaning loudly. He swaggered over to his horse and pulled out a full wineskin. He pulled the cork and took a drink. Glancing at the two men standing guard, he said, "Seems such a shame to miss ALL the festivities. Here, share a drink. We'll have a party of our own." He held out the skin to one of the men.

Both guards had shaved heads and looked as if they could each lift a warhorse one-handed. The tight leather armor they wore moved like a second skin. Neither had spoken a word since their appearance. The one who Gwaine offered the drink to, glanced at the skin and then back up at Gwaine. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight, giving off the appearance of boredom.

Merlin stood up and started towards the trees. The other guard spotted him and began to move after the warlock. "Hey, now...I just need to pee."

The man's face was devoid of expression.

"Really, I don't need your help. I know how to pee, all by myself."

He showed no sign of giving in on Merlin's request for privacy.

Sighing, Merlin grumbled, "Hey Gwaine, I think we'll have to go with the first suggestion."

Gwaine shrugged and took another drink. He smiled at his guard just as Merlin's eyes flashed.

"Aswebban." The warlock said out loud, attempting to put them to sleep.

The guards flinched, but as Merlin feared, they seemed to resist the spell. The two massive men scowled, the first change in facial expression since their arrival. They began to crack their knuckles in anticipation of an oncoming fight.

"þicce mamera." Merlin said, using a stronger spell.

The men swayed, but remained upright. The one closest to Merlin took a step forward. The warlock's eyes widened, "Unwittig!" He spoke loudly and bent the magic to his will.

Gwaine had taken advantage of the second casting and dropped the wineskin. The guard's eyes unwittingly followed it, and missed Gwaine's fist coming towards him.

Both leather-clad men laid unconscious. The two friends looked at each other and started to chuckle. Gwaine smirked, "Just like old times, eh?"

Merlin's face dropped. He pointed to the men, who were already beginning to stir. "No...now it's just like old times. Gwaine..."

"Run?"

Merlin nodded and the two friends took off into the forest.

**(*~*~*~*)**

They crept around the trees and ferns, trying to keep their bearings, and to not alert the guards they knew were after them. Sounds of laughter drifted from ahead, and had them thinking they had finally found the right path, near a small river.

"That's Leon." Gwaine commented in a hushed tone, recognizing the voice of the Knight Commander. The laughter ceased, and the two men froze...as much more carnal sounds began to filter through the trees. Gwaine crouched down and Merlin stood above him, as they peered around a tree towards the noise.

It took all of Merlin's self-control not to squeal like a girl at what he saw. His hands flew up to cover his mouth, as he pulled himself back around the tree they were using as cover.

Even Gwaine seemed a bit shocked, although he was doing his best not to laugh. "Looks like a private party..."

Unwilling to open his mouth, he nodded. They had found Leon and Cai...and it was apparent that neither appeared to be in danger of becoming human sacrifices...except, perhaps, to each other.

"Maybe we should go back to camp." The rogue whispered .

The warlock couldn't agree more.

* * *

_**AN: Proofread by Nance, flow reading by IcarusLSU (you both are gems!)**_

_**Through a lot of misleading links I came up with the name Jaufre for Leon's son. There is a very wonderful Arthurian legend I recently came across with the name...And I can't wait to use that story to twist into my own because it's going to be a LOT of fun.**_

_**Lindsey and/or Marie: Aw thank you! Duran is listed in a lot of referances as one of Arthur's many sons. However I have yet to find an actual legend tying into it. So I just thought it was a cool, little used name. :)**_

_**Monkeymail: YAH! I figured you were still reading, and I had hoped to hear from you. SO HAPPY!**_

_**Nance: I'll get to some Arthur and Merlin banter in the future. Right now I just needed to get some Gwaine out of my system hehe. I'm so glad you saw the similarities with Aylass and Isolde!**_

_**Tholey: Did you survive that chapter? hehe I'm so happy to see your reviews hope this wasn't going to indepth for the mysteries of the Catha for ya, hehe.**_

_**Icarus: LOL yeah wouldn't be a good thing ;)**_

_**Thanks everyone else for reading! If you wouldn't mind taking a moment to leave a review or a PM I'd love ya forever for it! :D**_


	26. Chapter 26- Noticeable changes

"Merlin, is something wrong?" Cai asked, as he began checking the gear on his horse. The previous night had been the best that the dark-haired knight had ever experienced...from his initiation, to the celebration afterwards. He and Leon had spent hours next to the bonfire, once they returned to the camp; talking about moving on from the past and looking towards the future. The next morning they had awoken, wrapped around each other in Cai's small tent.

Cai had gathered his belongings and bade farewell to his mentor and others, who he had come to know during his time with the Catha. He donned supple leather armor, while Leon made a joke about not seeing any robes. Cai explained that the robes were for the High Priests...the Masters of the Order. It would be many years before he was allowed to wear them. His chainmail from Camelot was too restrictive to the spell casting he had learned.

Leon smirked, and had made it known that he wasn't complaining. A twinkle in his blue eyes let Cai know just how much the blond appreciated the choice.

"Nope, not a thing." Merlin responded, tightening down his own saddle. He had refused to look either Cai or Leon in the eye all morning. After sneaking back to the camp with Gwaine, there had been no sign of their guards for the rest of the night.

Cai laughed, "Are you certain? A little bird told me you boys can't follow directions, and went for a stroll last night."

Merlin blushed. The apples of his cheeks turned a bright pink.

"Did you find anything interesting in the woods?" Cai continued to press the matter.

Gwaine muffled a snort, as he mounted up on Gringolet. Even the horse gave off a similar sound.

Cai's eyes narrowed, he stared directly at Merlin's back. "Perhaps saw something you didn't like?"

Merlin's entire face was shining like a beacon. His ears went from bright red to almost a maroon color at Cai's next words...

"Or...maybe you did like it?"

The warlock spun around, and stared at Cai, his blue eyes wide.

The newly anointed Catha Priest winked at his friend teasingly.

Gwaine grasped the saddle, laughing raucously, and nearly fell off.

Leon, already astride his own horse, groaned and covered his face. He finally realized what Cai was talking about. Soon, he was nearly as red as Merlin, from the thought that his private interlude with Cai was seen by his friends.

As the day wore on, the initial embarrassment gave way to joking and banter among the four men. They filled Cai in on all the gossip of Camelot, as well as the threats against the borders, while they rode away from Helva.

**(*~*~*~*)**

Each morning, as the sun rose, Cai would wake first. He barely acknowledged whoever was on watch, before finding himself a place to face the rising sun for his meditation. Initially, the others would watch in wonder, then they joked about it.

"Hey, Leon!" Gwaine spoke out, over a breakfast of cold stew, made the night before. "I think we got the wrong guy."

Leon glanced at his fellow knight in confusion.

"I mean, this guy you brought back isn't anywhere as depressing as the guy who left."

"I have to agree with Gwaine on this." Merlin made a show of pretending to stir his food in deep thought. "I mean..."

"If you all want that so badly, I can attempt to make a show of it for you," Cai commented from his kneeling position.

A chorus of "No's" came from the other three men.

Chuckling, Leon handed a bowl of the stew to Cai, when he moved to join them. "We should reach King Roderick, and the Southron capital today."

"He'll probably invite us to stay for the evening, but I've got a feeling we should just pass on our message, and move on." Merlin said, beginning to clean up the camp area.

They rode into the castle and were granted an immediate audience with King Roderick, who indeed insisted that they stay a while.

The young Prince David, who, prior to his unfortunate transformation, had been a stout boy who never picked up a sword...had thinned out and was now taking charge of his life. He asked about Loholt and pouted when Leon informed him of his son's prospect of being a Knight of Camelot, and not Southron.

It was Lord Simon, with his thick, long moustache, who suggested the possibility of the prince training as a squire under a Camelotian Knight...or even the king himself...as a show of good faith between the two kingdoms. King Roderick agreed to consider it, and to discuss it with Arthur in the future.

Lord Simon also relayed his concerns over the state of unrest, from the wild creatures that seemed to plague many of the surrounding kingdoms. Many of the minor kingdoms were beginning to blame Camelot, as increased sightings and altercations with creatures of the Old Religion came to light. Roderick, thankfully, only saw it all as coincidental timing...or at least, that was what he said to the group from Camelot.

Merlin felt a chill crawl down his spine. It felt like the air pressure took a sudden drop. Something was out there. Something big. He glanced at his companions. Leon and Gwaine appeared oblivious to the change, Cai's eyes met his.

No other magic user Merlin knew of, was as sensitive to the changes...at least none who he had spent any amount of time with. However, he had to admit to himself that his dealings with them were few and far between. A knowing nod passed between them, now was not the time for discussion.

**(*~*~*~*)**

His chin raised in determination. The prey was in front of him, and it appeared to be sleeping.

Silent as a fox, he crept forward; weapons in hand. His intended target didn't stir. Closer, and closer, he came. Just as he was about to strike, the bird came to life.

Bubo's head spun around. With a flurry of whistles and a flapping of metal wings, he took to the air from the desk and lit upon the mantle of the fireplace.

George's fist tightened on the soft leather cloth he used to polish. "If that is the game you wish to play, Sir Owl, then I hope your quill feathers continue to stick! What would Lord Emrys say if he came back to find you in a worse state than he originally found you in? Hm?"

The response from the golden owl was a distinct raspberry of disapproval.

"I don't see why he didn't just take you with him. It's not as if I don't have enough duties to deal with, and...as much as I enjoy polishing...your feathers can rust away for all I care!" George knew, of course, that gold didn't rust, but the mousy servant could think of no better curse for the unnatural creature. He set the leather and his bottle of shine compound on the desk and turned his back to the owl.

In all honesty, he was bored. Much of the castle staff was preparing for the birthday of the young prince. He had already accomplished all of his own tasks, assisted Gilli and the other servants in the King's Chambers, helped in the armory, and avoided the kitchen. The head cook, Audrey, was in a state even George sought to avoid. Anyone not on her staff found in the kitchens, was forced into scullery work for weeks as compensation for trespassing...George had no inclination to go from being the manservant of Lord Emrys to scrubbing the kitchen floors.

The servants for the festivities were already in place, and although...in George's humble opinion...the polish on the cups could use a bit more shine, he was informed that they did not require his services. Aithusa was off studying her kind with the larger dragon. Bran had his body back, and had not returned in over a year...He wasn't sure if he was thankful for the quiet, without the trouble-making child and her antics with the disembodied head.

George's thoughts for more excitement, were interrupted when the alarm bells began to ring throughout the city.

**(*~*~*~*)**

"It appears to have nothing, and yet, at the same time...everything...to do with Camelot." Cai mentioned, as they made camp that night, on their way to the Southeastern Garrison back in Camelot territory. "There is something that wishes to be found, or known...and all this is happening to bring it about."

"That makes no sense," Gwaine commented, his head tilted to the side, while he tried to figure out what Cai meant. Leon had already given up trying to decipher some of his companion's new, odd phrasing.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, completely intrigued.

Cai looked off, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, "You believe lightning to be released as a result of the collision of clouds?"

"Yes...unless I happen to call it down." Merlin responded, with a cheeky grin.

"But what if the lighting being released, is why the clouds come together in the first place?"

He stared, slack jawed, at Cai. "I never thought I'd say this...but you have become, by far...far worse than Kilgharrah, when it comes to giving a straight answer!"

The two magic users eyed each other, before Cai broke the stare and turned away, chuckling to himself. "Perhaps, you just haven't been taught how to interpret them."

"Then teach me." His voice was low and serious.

* * *

_**Amazing thanks to Nance for proofreading. If I could figure out how to send you chocolate through email, I would :D**_

_**Tholey: BREATH! Actually, no that last chapter was so much fun to write. It'd actually been waiting in my mind for quite a while hehe.**_

_**Frankie: AW *blush* thanks! Glad I could make you grin!**_

_**Megami: sometimes I wonder what you're reacting to ;D thank for the review!**_

_**IcarusLSU: hehe I love the roller coaster of emotions through words.**_

_**Nance: I went back and read chap 17 of Knave after you said that...it was amazing to see how this story, especially these guys, have morphed and grown since then.**_

_**Thank you for everyone who is still with me on this journey. I am researching some more myths and twists I recently discovered. So stay tuned!**_

_**On a semi-random note: I finally had the opportunity to watch Brokeback Mountain today. A little slow, no big plot, or anything, but it was very beautifully done. Sad in places, happy in others, and heartbreaking. It was interesting to see some of the issues I faced with Cai and Leon mirrored in that movie.**_

_**Anyhoo! Please review! I'll send everyone who does a virtual puppy!***_

_*****_potting training not included


	27. Chapter 27- Shadows and Princes

_***peeks out from the shadows* Hi...I'm here still!**_

_**A bit of a spooky start to the chapter...because...well, it's October hehe.**_

_**Thanks as always to Nance for her wonderful proofing, and IcarusLSU for flow reading...And to everyone who has favorited and followed Thank you!**_

_**Megami: Yes he does hehe**_

_**Monkeymail: fixed it as soon as I saw your review. THANKS!**_

_**Nance: I know you've been wanting to see the return of Prince David hehe He'll be coming in again soon :)**_

_**Shelle-ma-belle: It would be easier, but not as fun to read hehe**_

_**Allpau1: sorry all out of great danes...how about a doxie!**_

_**Tholey: No Cai/Leon in this chapter but next one there will be a bit :)**_

_**IcarusLSU: It's George! Need I say more? LOL**_

_**Anyhoo...WOW it's been almost a year since I started this tale with "Two Sides of the Coin" Can you believe it?! Sorry the updates slowed way down, my muse is still dealing with the Stargate/Merlin crossover hehe. Which has been so much fun to write! There are a few readers unfamiliar with Stargate that have commented how much they love it, and that they don't need to know the show to follow it...so if you're hesitant about reading due to that, just give it a try and see what you think! (I have some half-naked, sweaty Gwaine in it for you fangirls and boys hehe)**_

* * *

One by one, the lights in the city darkened. Candles were blown or snuffed out of existence. Braziers along the streets, previously lit at sunset, burned low, as the witching hour approached. Torches danced and flickered. Most were left to die in the sconces that held them.

A night watchman patrolled the streets, with a servant carrying a few logs to feed some of the fires as they passed. The moon above, a few nights into its waning cycle, created elongated shadows as it descended into the western sky. The city of Camelot slept.

He smiled and called upon the night to aid in his hunt. A creature cooed at his side. The humanoid beast stood no more than three feet tall. It's ears...long and pointed...hung heavy with rings. The gray skin of the hobgoblin blended into the night. Cernunnos turned to the creature and rubbed his hand in an affectionate caress over its scalp. He turned to look behind him at the gathering of ancient beasts.

A small blue fairy creature buzzed about the Lord's antlers. They were all awaiting his command, and he was waiting for a window to be opened.

**(*~*~*~*)**

The alarm ringing woke Arthur with a start. He cursed and pulled a pillow over his face. The ropes to the bells had been replaced earlier in the day, causing all manner of distraction. It was ill-timed, more than anything else. Duran would be celebrating the first year of his birth in two days. The little boy meant everything to the king.

He and Guinevere had debated many hours about a name for their child and finally settled on one that meant 'enduring'. It fit the little boy, more that they could have ever imagined. Not only for the fact that their own relationship had endured many years and hardships, but also because during the course of the past year alone, the child had suffered from a variety of ailments, including the croup...and he came out fighting, where many other children would have perished.

Arthur supposed he had his sister, her mother, and Alice to thank for that. The three women worked tirelessly with their herbs and their magic to make certain the young prince survived. The king felt a stirring of panic tighten in his chest. It was enough that he almost bolted out of bed and into the nursery room, next door to the royal quarters.

Gwen hummed softly and snuggled closer to her husband, also having been woken by the annoying bells. "Go back to sleep, Arthur. He is safely guarded. The guests who have arrived for the celebrations are probably cursing all of Camelot, right now. You're going to need your sleep, if you are to deal with them in the morning."

During the first week, when Duran had been moved into his own room, Arthur and Gwen had awoke often and rushed to check on their child. After a while they finally calmed...or at least, Gwen did. She loved her son more than anything, but she began to appreciate the time away from him to spend with her husband.

The king was another matter, and she was beginning to feel worn down by his constant fits of anxiety that his son was not safe. It was rather cute when it started, now it was becoming a bit annoying.

He laid back on the bed and pulled his wife closer. Arthur knew she was probably right, and his apprehension was unfounded. He felt like he finally understood his father a bit more. The overprotective nature Uther displayed at times, while a curse to a growing boy, was a constant ache in the man, who wanted nothing more than the best for his child. Arthur couldn't imagine what it would have been like, without the beautiful blacksmith's daughter who shared his bed.

"What the hell?!" Arthur groaned loudly, as the bell began to toll again. His senses were alerted when he heard someone yelling and footsteps running down the hall.

Bolting out of the bed, he grabbed his sword and sped towards the corridor.

Down the hall, his son's door was open...and the guards weren't by it. "No..." he whispered, before racing to the nursery. His heart was pounding. His breath was caught in his throat, and he felt a wave of nausea overcome him as he ran over the threshold.

The guards were sprawled out on the floor inside...quite dead, judging by the vacant stares and blood that pooled around them.

He froze. His whole world came to a screeching halt, as his eyes...wide and fearful...looked toward the empty crib. A soft cry from the open window caught his attention. Slowly, his face turned towards it. The wind shifted slightly and caught the open window, causing it to creak on the hinges, in what sounded like a whimper.

The bells continued to ring, but his mind refused to process what was happening.

A voice, muffled and distant, said something... "Sire." It came again, a little louder and a little clearer. "Sire!"

He felt himself being snapped out of his shock when a hand landed on his shoulder..

"SIRE!"

Arthur spun on the man. Sir Vortimer stood before him. He grabbed the knight roughly by the clasp of his cloak. "Where is my son?" He snarled out through gritted teeth.

Vortimer hesitated at the rage in his sovereign. "I...I don't know, Sire. I was on my rounds and came across the door already opened. I glanced inside and saw the guards. My first thought was to alert the watch and have the bells rung."

"Why didn't you wake me immediately?!" He tightened his hold on the man, with his left hand. His right, held his sword in a white knuckled grip.

"Arthur?" The tremor in Gwen's voice brought him back to reality. She ran to the crib screaming, nearly tripping over the fallen guards. "Duran! NO!" Frantically, she began to tear through the bedding and search the room.

"Sire...I..." His voice was choked as the king tightened his hold.

Percival came rushing into the room, followed by more knights and guards. "ARTHUR!" He roared, to get the king's attention, trying to assess the situation.

The blond monarch dropped the young knight and spun on the man who was currently in command during Sir Leon's absence. "WHERE IS MY SON?! I want everyone awake and looking for him! Close off the gates! Seal the city! I want whoever is responsible for this found!"

"The gates are already shut off. Word has been passed that the current bells are to be heeded."

Arthur nodded stiffly. "Whoever has been ringing those bells without due cause, is to be imprisoned. Sir Vortimer, you said you were on the castle watch tonight?"

Vortimer pushed off the wall and nodded. He noticed the king had his back turned and didn't see it. Clearing his throat, he stated out loud, "Yes...Sire."

"Percival, have him placed in the dungeon, as an example to those who fail in their duties to protect my family."

"Sire?" Percival asked, glancing between Arthur and the young knight.

"Arthur...it's not his fault..." The queen tried to say through her tears.

"SILENCE!" The king glared around the room. "You will follow my orders, Sir Percival. Take Vortimer to the dungeon. Make sure every one of the knights, every guardsman, every single squire and servant are looking for my son!"

The large knight had never witnessed such raw anger coming from the king. He nodded, and motioned for Vortimer to be taken out of the room, if only to protect him from the king's wrath, until Arthur had a chance to calm down. He could sympathize with the king, unable to imagine himself reacting any different if it was one of his children.

The armed men left the room. Arthur turned to his wife. "Do not ever question my orders in front of the knights again." He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Gwen fell to the floor, sobbing. In the shadowed room, for a brief moment, she was not looking at Arthur...but at his father.

**(*~*~*~*)**

Loholt made his way into the dungeon, determined to see how his friend was doing. Although he was younger than Vortimer by a few years, the knight had always been nice to him; treating him like a friend, or a younger brother. Over the past year, Vortimer had helped Loholt in his training as a squire, especially when it came to figuring out who was who, and what houses they were from. The blond teenager knew his mother didn't seem to approve of the young man, but he felt like he knew Vortimer better than his mother.

_Not long after arriving in Camelot for the tournament in honor of Lord Emrys, Loholt had found himself a bit lost in the city. Then, another squire had quite literally saved his neck and gotten him back to the tournament grounds, just before his Uncle Bedivere was set to compete. _

_"Who are you squired to?" The older of the two asked._

_Loholt answered as he was taught, "Bedivere. We are here with his brother Cai, Lord of Anjou."_

_"Really? My Lord Father served with Lord Cai's father, Ector, as a Knight of Camelot for the late King Uther." He stated proudly. "What family are you from, that you should be serving as Bedivere's squire?"_

_"Uh..." Loholt wasn't prepared to answer, and found himself floundering a bit. His mother and uncles wanted him to keep the circumstances around his birth a secret. "No family...I just..."_

_"Are you like king's manservant? Well, former manservant. He was nothing more than a peasant, and King Arthur was having him fulfil many of the squire's duties for years. It was rather odd. Most squires at least have some noble blood in them. Although, come to think of it, he is now the king's cousin. A bastard cousin, truth be told, but at least there is nobility in him; unlike the knights of the King's Guard. Most of them are not..." _

_"...Not what...nobles or bastards?"_

_"Nobles." The older of the two answered assuredly. "If they were at least bastards of nobility, that would be much better than being simple serfs promoted on their ability to handle a sword. Don't you think? Oh, I mean no offense, if you're nothing more than a peasant, that is."_

_"Actually, I'm not just a peasant. My mother is Lord Cai's sister." He stated with pride. For the first time, he felt like someone might be more understanding than those in his home village were. Loholt knew he was more noble than just through his mother's line, but he also understood that he shouldn't mention who his father was._

_The older boy smiled, "Well, now that's more like it. My father would be pleased to hear that at least some of the nobles outside Camelot are still able to differentiate between the common and the elite."_

_They walked along together for a while, chitchatting about their duties as squires. When they reached the edge of the tournament grounds, the young man turned to Loholt. "If I do exceptionally well in my competitions today, I should be receiving my Accolade and becoming a full knight. If you need any assistance, just ask. My name is Vortimer, by the way."_

_"Loholt." He said his name, beaming brightly at his new friend._

_"Loholt!" The boy turned to see his Uncle Cai coming towards him. "Where have you been? Bedivere needs you to help him with his shield."_

_"I'm sorry. I got lost in the city, My Lord." _

_"Well, best make haste. You know how Bedivere gets if he is kept waiting."_

Loholt approached the cell quietly, expecting to see his friend appearing worried, or sad, by what had happened. The soft chuckle and look of triumph on Vortimer's features, was a surprise. He heard a soft hissing sound, like a snake.

Craning his neck around the corner, he tried to get a better view inside the cell. There weren't any guards posted, as Sir Percival didn't believe Vortimer to be a threat.

Loud footsteps echoed through from down the hallway. Loholt looked up and stepped off to the side immediately, into an empty cell kitty corner from his friend's, as Sir Percival approached.

The large knight didn't seem to even notice him.

Vortimer stood up and watched Percival with sudden trepidation. "Sir."

"Relax, Vortimer. I only had you brought here because it seemed the safest course at the time. Arthur has calmed a bit since early this morning...but since you were in charge of the castle guard last night..."

"The guards!" Vortimer asked, his eyes wide with fear. "Are they alright?"

Percival shook his head. "No, they were both already dead by the time anyone arrived."

"Forgive me...I saw them gone and the door open...I looked in and found them lying there...the prince was gone...but I didn't know if he had spent the night in the Royal Chambers...as he sometimes does...my first thought was to alert you and the rest of the guard..." The young knight babbled out in one breath.

Percival placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you were trained to do." He consoled him. "You didn't know for sure what happened. If whoever it was, who took out the guards so easily without alerting anyone else, was still in there, you probably would have been killed as well."

"The king wants to question you. He's waiting with your father in the Council Chambers."

Vortimer nodded quickly and followed Percival out of the cell. With the larger man's back to him, Vortimer let the façade falter slightly with a roll of his eyes. Loholt was able to see the tiniest of upturns at the corners of his friend's lips.

Loholt sighed softly, wondering what it was about. He debated on telling someone about his observations, but he wasn't sure what he would say. Sir Leon and Lord Emrys were gone on a mission to retrieve his uncle. His mother would believe him, but would give him a look of admonishment and probably tell him to just keep his nose out of it, and let the knights do their job.

Briefly, he considered going to the king personally, but he didn't know what proof he could offer, or what help it would be. The hint of a smile and a roll of the eyes by a knight being led out of a dungeon? That could have been simply due to Vortimer's disdain of the peasant knight who retrieved him from the cell. A hissing sound? Even the king would think he was just imagining things...and now, during a time of crisis, when Prince Duran was missing...approaching Arthur and angering him, was the last thing anybody in Camelot wanted to do.

He waited until the knights were gone, before slipping into the cell and having a look around.

**(*~*~*~*)**

"Is there any way to send word to Merlin and the others?" Arthur asked Gilli, through clenched teeth.

The king had personally led the initial search through the castle, becoming increasingly frustrated with every passing moment. He had briefly met with his council, and questioned Vortimer again. This time with a slightly cooler head. Arthur felt a minor touch of regret about his rashness earlier, as the young knight appeared genuinely ashamed of his actions.

As Arthur made his way back towards the level that housed the Royal Chambers, he went through the points he knew. Two guards, highly trained, were found dead in the room. Their throats were slit, each in a single motion, giving them no chance to call out or fight back. The window was open, in the cool, late autumn night. That alone was unacceptable, lest the prince catch a cold. There was no sign of a struggle or altercation. The door wasn't forced open. Even under duress, the guards, who were selected personally by the king, would have fought back in some way...unless magic was used.

Guinevere had yet to leave the nursery room. She had gathered up the blanket that had been in the crib with her son, and sat in a rocking chair next to it. Staring forlornly out the window, the tears continued to fall from her eyes.

"George thinks that Bubo may be able to find him, if we send him with a note."

"Do it." The king responded. His initial rage had cooled, though it still bubbled just beneath the surface. He clung to it like a lifeline, knowing if he didn't keep the anger, he would be a blubbering mess, just like his wife. In a way, he envied her. She was a woman and was forgiven her emotions during a crisis. He was the king...such behavior was unacceptable.

Gilli bowed and left on his mission.

"Arthur!" Morgana came running down the hall, and skidded to a stop beside her brother. Her eyes immediately caught sight of the open door behind him. She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth as she noticed Gwen crying inside the room. "By the Goddess, I'm too late..."

Clenching his fists, Arthur wasn't certain how he managed to keep his voice low. "Too late?"

"I had a dream, that Duran was taken. My mother and I came back here immediately...I had hoped..."

His eyes met hers, in an icy stare. "Tell me everything you know, Morgana."


End file.
